


Matchmaker

by Manhattanite



Series: Matchmaker [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-07-16 05:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 100
Words: 207,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7255153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manhattanite/pseuds/Manhattanite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sameen Shaw doesn't just need a job; she needs a purpose.  Her BFF, Fusco, is convinced of it, so he asks his pal, John Reese to allow her to interview for job of bodyguard for Samantha "Root" Groves.  Only because he's doing Fusco a favor, does John pass Shaw along to Root's overly protective uncle, Harold Finch.  He's impressed with Shaw, although he's not quite sure why.  He passes her on to his niece to make the final decision.  Root's interview consists of tazing, drugging, and kidnapping Shaw to get to her to accept the position of bodyguard.  She's never met anyone like Shaw, and Shaw has never met anyone who gets under her skin as badly as Root.  </p><p>Promise - in spite of its length, it's an easy read.<br/>PS I forgot to mention - I borrowed every Shaw-Root line from the talented writers of POI.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breakfast

John Reese sat across from the petite woman who, in spite of her size, packed a huge attitude. This is exactly why John didn’t believe in helping a friend help a friend. No good deed went unpunished and he was a hundred percent certain, he was going to regret this. When he mentioned he was given the task of finding a new security person for his team, his detective friend asked him to at least consider a fellow marine who had fallen on hard times. 

“So, Fusco tells me you guys were in the Marines, together,” he said, sipping tea and forgetting how hot it was.

“Yeah,” the woman responded and it was the typical monosyllabic response he had been getting since she sat down. 

“And that you guys collaborated on some work after that?” John inquired hoping to elicit more information. Lionel was a little light on the details other than to assure John, this woman was the right fit for the job. “I’d bet my bowling shirt on it,” he said and then John knew how serious he was. 

"Yeah," she answered again. 

“You understand we need someone with security background, but who can also handle situations that can run the gamut,” John explained. 

“Yeah?” the interviewee said, still looking at him from behind her Ray Bans, shoving another mouthful of food into her mouth. 

When he asked her to meet at the diner, he expected to conduct the interview over coffee. As soon as her bum hit the seat, she ordered a cardiac arrest breakfast of eggs, pancakes, sausage, toast and orange juice. He had only gotten through half the questions about her background and experience when the food arrived on three plates and she dug in like she was starving. From then on in, it was nodding her head or shaking it. Once she tried to answer with her mouth full, but John suggested she swallow first because - one – he couldn’t understand her and two, who wanted to see half chewed food in someone’s mouth this early in the morning. Now that her mouth was empty, it seemed her answers weren’t any better.

“Ms. Groves is a ….,” the man in charge of Security started, but was waved off. 

“Yeah, I know. She’s a pain in the ass. I read the papers, Jack,” the woman said, and John watched in horror as she took out a toothpick and stabbed at errant pieces of sausage stuck in her teeth. 

Her description might have been right, but John Reese didn’t ever talk poorly about his employer …or the pain in the ass niece he was in charge of keeping safe. “I was going to say brilliant and temperamental,” he said correctly, but was met with dark eyes, now peering over the sunglasses she pulled down. 

“That’s code for pain in the ass,” she said bluntly and shoved the glasses back up. 

Were her eyes bloodshot? Was she hungover? He had asked Fusco if she was stable and the man laughed, but said ‘as a rock’. John thought now they may have different interpretations. Even since John left the force, he and Lionel were still best friends and saw each other all the time. The good hearted detective would listen as John complained about his job; which was surprising to Lionel, since John rarely ever shared his feelings, let alone complain. But the decorated ex-military, ex-NYPD detective had met his match. 

“Says here you were a doctor?” John asked as he lifted the paper and read page two of her handwritten resume. Other candidates had handed him thick creamy stationery with impeccable typing. He was having trouble reading her scrawl. 

“Yeah,” the doctor answered and John tilted his head toward her to indicate he’d appreciate a few more words on that. “I can remove my own bullets if I’m shot, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Not exactly,” the man in the crisp white button down shirt sighed. “Our client….,” and he hesitated to say more because he didn’t think this woman was going to make it past round two of the interview, “…..has needed medical attention in the past.” 

“Drugs?” the woman asked, still with no expression on her face. She waved the waitress over and ordered pie after hearing the long list of choices. “Apple.”

“No, nothing like that,” John said, after the waitress left. 

“She pregnant? Cause I don’t deliver babies,” the woman informed him.

“No!” the Head of Security answered quickly, even though he wasn’t certain. The woman read his expression immediately. 

“So, you don’t know….,” she said; a slight pause between the words that she filled with a smirk. She knew guys like John Reese; all business, all the time. She made it a sport to be able to actually unnerve them and the only thing she ever found to be consistent was mentioning things associated only to women. 

The tall man, impeccably dressed, caught the grin immediately. It was hard to miss, since it was the only time there was anything but a blank expression on her face. “Not the point,” he finally said. “Just your background puts you in a smaller pool of applicants.” Why should this hotshot think she’s got the job, John thought. 

“So, let’s see if I got this right,” the woman said, and for the first time, actually removed her sunglasses and folded her hands. “You’re in charge of security for this princess, but you need someone who can …oh, I don’t know….go to the bathroom with her and pick out eye shadow, if needed?” Unbeknownst to the man, whose white collar was feeling a little damp now, that distinct eye roll in the middle of that sentence was in fact the woman’s signature look. There wasn’t much she didn’t use it in response to. 

John decided this woman was as annoying as hell. It was obvious to him that she had little regard for …well, probably anything. In the short time they were together, he decided she probably had issues with authority and alcohol. She was the complete opposite to this man who thrived on order and orders. 

He would hate working with her. 

And yet, he couldn’t think of anyone who deserved the job more, because if there was anyone who was a bigger pain in the ass that this woman, it was the woman she might work for. 

“Well, Ms. Shaw, I think you’re ready for round two,” John said, smiling a little too broadly for his guest.

“Yeah, whatever,” she answered and put the glasses back on to avoid the pain from the glare of the light. 

“Can you come to this address at twelve noon today?” John said, sliding the business card across the table. 

Sameen picked it up and read it. “Who is…. Harold Finch?” she asked, even though his title was right under his name. 

“Let’s just say he’s round two of your interview,” John smiled because his part of the assignment was done. All that was requested of him was to find someone who he thought could last a week with the client. He was certain Sameen Shaw could last a week with her, or die trying. 

Either way, this was a win-win situation for John.


	2. Midmorning Snack

John walked back to his office in midtown Manhattan with his usual pensive look that he wore when trying to complete a task. He was a serious man, who took his responsibilities seriously. But this last request proved to test his patience. Finding an experienced person responsible for the personal safety of the brilliant Samantha Groves wasn’t the issue. He interviewed plenty of qualified candidates. But, to date, only a handful made it past the protective uncle, and of those, not one made it past the woman in need of their help.

John’s job had become more and more challenging, as the brilliant IT creator made more amazing discoveries and products, which in turn brought its own bag of troubles. As diligent as she was about her work, Samantha Groves bordered on reckless when it came to her business and social dealings. She was CEO of her own technology company, BEAR; an acronym she came up with based on her Camp Fire Girl’s motto of – “Be Ever Aware and Ready”.

To John Reese, his charge - who insisted on being called “Root” - was neither. More than once, the man found himself getting her out of danger in the nick of time. Something her Uncle appreciated very much, but which Samantha seemed to hardly notice.  
“She has…impulsive issues,” Harold confided in John one day, when he had rescued her from a near fatal collision that seemed too coincidental. She wasn’t paying any attention, and walked right out into traffic. But John knew the car appeared out of nowhere and had Fusco ran the plates. Sure enough, the car was traced back to a relative of one of BEAR’s competitors.

John called his friend on the phone before reaching his office. “Hey, Lionel,” John said in his usual low, gravelly voice. “Anything you want to tell me about Shaw before the big guy meets her?”

“Hey, John! Look, thanks a lot for meeting her. She’s a good kid, really. Heart of ….uhm, gold, yeah, gold,” Fusco stammered because assigning adjectives to Sameen was challenging.

“Anything Harold might notice like, oh, I don’t know, a drinking issue?” John asked bluntly.

“No! Absolutely….,” Lionel said and felt caught between two good friends. “She’s had some ….,” and the longer he hesitated, the more John’s eyes squinted on the other end of the call. “…..issues, but not drinking. She just needs a steady job; a reason to get up in the morning. She’s good at what she does, John, I promise you that.”

“Yeah, well, she wasn’t overly impressive, Lionel,” John warned him. “I don’t know if Harold will even understand her and her chances of getting past round three are really slim.”

“Look, I appreciate you giving her a chance, okay?” the detective said and meant it. Most people would have kept walking after seeing the scowl on Shaw’s face. Of all the qualifying skills his friend had, Lionel knew people skills weren't among them.

“I’ll let you know what happens,” John said, wondering how to tell his employer about the woman.

* * *

A few minutes later, John was in the BEAR and Co. building and walking into Harold Finch’s office. “How is your talent search going, John?” Harold said from behind a large desk that contained several large computer screens. John could hear the enthusiasm in his voice and really hated to disappoint him. He was having his very expensive French red currant jam, Bar-le-Duc; on the equally expensive crackers and offered John some.  
John didn’t care if it was the most expensive jam in the world; it was too sweet for his taste.

“Well, Harold, as you know, the last several candidates didn’t make the cut,” John said in what Harold had come to understand as his almost monotone voice. Unless anyone was in eminent danger, he had never heard John raise his voice.

This was not news to the anxious Uncle who wished to have the person on board ASAP. “Yes, I know,” he conceded.

“Maybe you could …talk to her?” John asked, hesitantly, sitting down.

“Talk to me about what?” the woman in question asked as she walked into her uncle’s office. She grabbed a jam laden cracker and ate it.

“Oh, we were just talking about you,” Harold said and John cringed at how nervous he sounded.

“What did you and the big lug decide now; ankle bracelet to keep track of me?” Samantha teased and she sat down in the chair.

Two seconds later, the Belgian Shepherd, who was allowed to roam the premises at will, joined his owner in the room. “Come here, Bear,” Samantha cooed at him and he put his front paws in her lap.

“I keep telling you, he’ll be harder to control if you don’t discipline him,” John repeated. He frowned at the way she treated the large dog, as if he were a Yorkie.

“John says you’re spoiled. Are you spoiled? No, I didn’t think so,” the Genius fussed and the dog’s animated tail kept hitting John’s leg back and forth.

“Dog hair?” John said, moving back and wiping the hair off his expensive suit.

“Mr. Reese was just updating me on the latest candidates that we can interview,” Harold interjected.

“Oh, goody,” Samantha said, and motioned for Bear to sit and he did. “Who is this time, John? Kardashian security rejects? Retired Intel guys who never fired their guns?”

“Root,” Harold said in a disapproving tone for taunting the Security Director.

“Well, he never finds anyone ……,” and she stopped and looked up at the ceiling before choosing the right word. “Interesting!”

“The woman with ten years’ experiences as a Secret Service agent …bored you?” John asked incredulously of the last person he sent their way.

Samantha scrunched up her face and nodded yes. “She really did, John, she really did. I need …different; I need... entertaining. If this person is going to be with me all the time, I don’t want them to be downers. You know what I mean?”

John Reese looked over at Harold Finch. This was the brightest man he had ever met and yet, even he couldn’t get through to this woman. She was like something on a string all the time. “John did share that you dismissed all of the candidates that I thought were wonderful selections,” Harold pointed out. He had done extensive data analysis on each of them and recommended only the ones who scored the highest in each of the twenty-five categories.

“Boring; too uptight; never cracked a smile; dressed atrociously; smelled,” the woman listed off as she touched the digits on her hand.

John had never met anyone so hard to please in all his life. She was unshakable when she got her mind set on something. “Okay,” John said slowly. “I set up an appointment with you for twelve noon today,” he finally shared.

“I can’t do lunch,” Samantha said and started to fuss all over the dog who had been sitting at attention. “And Bear has to go to Doggie Groom Town because he needs to have his nails clipped, don’t you, Bear?”

The sight of what could have made an excellent military dog reduced to a overexcited, tail wagging canine, made John moan. “I set her up with Harold.”

“Oh, good! I would love to meet her. Do you have her resume?” Harold asked, enthusiastically and then John remembered the stained, handwritten, crumpled up two page resume in his pocket.

“I told her to bring you a copy,” John lied and smiled.

“Well, I’ll leave you two boys to …do what you do….,” Samantha said and John reminded her that he’d be going with her to the groomers.

* * *

“So, John, tell me,” his boss said as she rode the elevator down with him. “Will I like your new applicant?”

John looked up at the numbers lighting up on the panel as the elevator descended. “I can guarantee, you’ve never met anyone like her before in your life.”

He knew he hadn’t.


	3. Lunch

Sameen should have been apprehensive about getting this job, but she wasn’t. What she was – was hungry. That breakfast held her over while tall, dark and annoying yapped away, but now the hunger was back. And she knew exactly what she needed. The problem was the restaurant was downtown and she was in midtown. She called on her cell, ordered her favorite sandwich and gave the delivery address at BEAR Industry. “What floor? How the hell…,hey,” Sameen said, grabbing the sleeve of an executive who was leaving the building. “What floor is Harold…eh…. something or another on?”

“Who wants to know?” the man asked, taken with the beautiful, albeit feisty, woman.

“My five fingers,” she snapped, tightening the grip on his sleeve.

“Forty-two,” he answered and was finally released.

“Sorry,” his assailant said, and cleared her throat, annoyed at how quickly she had lost her temper. If there was one thing her friend, Lionel, had said over, and over, and over again, it was – don’t snap at people before you actually have the job.

“Crazy bitch,” the wounded man said when he was certain he was far enough away.

“You still there?” Sameen said into the phone and was assured they heard the floor number. “Twenty minutes,” they said and hung up. “Great,” she said as she looked around and decided – there was no place to go, but up.

* * *

It was only when she walking into the shiny silver and glass lobby, did she get a good look at what she looked like. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but there were two or three long stands that refused to stay in place, and now framed her face, sometimes right across her eye. She did put on clean black pants and the black sleeveless jersey was …almost clean. Maybe the boots were …a bit too much for an interview. She scoured the large entrance for options until she found it. Ordinarily, Shaw would have approached the woman, explained the situation, offered her a stack of bills, and switched outfits. Today, she had to try a different tactic. She got her clearance through Security and followed the woman up the elevator and to her floor. Then, when the doppelganger went into the ladies’ room, she followed her in. It wasn’t the smoothest maneuver the former Marine special op’s ever made, but ten minutes later, she walked out of there in a sleeveless black dress and high heel shoes. By the time the victim regained consciousness in a stall in that bathroom, dressed in clothes she had never seen, attacked by an unseen assailant, Shaw would be upstairs.

* * *

It didn’t take much for Sameen to look coiffed after upgrading her outfit. She approached the desk, said she had a noon appointment with Mr. Finch and waited in the waiting area. Getting dressed up was the extent to which Shaw was going to go. She had nothing else to do, but wait.

When her lunch arrived, she cut the delivery guy off at the elevator and paid for her “Beatrice Lillie” selection and hurried him on his way. Then she smiled at the receptionist; using up her quota for the day, and settled back down in the vacant waiting area and proceeded to dive into her lunch.

When Harold Finch returned to his floor, he asked if his twelve o’clock appointment had arrived. His secretary looked at him in disbelief and asked – “Can’t you smell that pastrami?” Not understanding the connection, he asked again. This time he was told that, indeed, his appointment was already there, and sensed by her strange expressions and head jerk that it wasn’t the typical applicant.

“Did she give you a resume?” he asked the woman, who couldn’t stop staring at the way Sameen was nonchalantly shoving the sandwich, still in its wrapper, into her mouth in giant bites.

“Do you think I would honestly take anything that woman gave me?” the woman asked, aghast at the sight.

Harold didn’t care for her revulsion of their guest and decided to take matters into his own hands. That’s when he approached the petite woman and welcomed her. “Ms. Shaw, I am…..,” the affable man greeted his guest and stopped. The woman’s face was half hidden by the white paper the sandwich was wrapped in and it was obvious to see; in the war of keeping the food items in place, she was losing. “Harold Finch,” he finished and wasn’t sure if he should keep his hand extended, for fear she would actually accept it.

“Oh, hey,” Sameen said, trying not to show how annoyed she was at his timing.

Her beauty struck Harold immediately, and he found it curious how so beautiful a woman could be in such disarray. “Perhaps …you would like to finish,” he said, hoping he wouldn’t have to allow her into his pristine office, but she was assuring him, erroneously, that it was no trouble. And with that, she stood up, crumpled sandwich in one hand, the soda she was slurping in the other, and jerked her head to urge Harold to ‘show her the way’. “Oh, dear,” he murmured as he smiled uncomfortably and walked to his office. He could hear the paper wrinkling behind him as his guest shoved the last remaining soggy bites into her mouth. He turned and saw her searching for a place to throw out the wrapper; her cheek protruding with the lump of sandwich sitting there.

“Gad-a-garbash?” she asked and Harold stared at her, trying to understand what she said. There wasn’t a code written, a language spoken, that Harold Finch didn’t understand. But this food induced garble was a new one.

“Oh!” he finally said and almost went to retrieve his own bin under his desk, when he realized that the smell would be with him all day. As it was, he was considering having his entire office completely sanitized. “Out there!” he said quickly and smiled to cover up his urgent response.

“Really?” Shaw asked, wondering how you could have an office so large …and no wastepaper basket. She dutifully threw the rolled up paper and empty soda cup outside and returned.

“Well, Miss Shaw, John tells me you’ve got a lot of experience in security detail,” Harold said, deciding to make the most of the interview.

“You could say that,” Sameen said, sitting down, but taking a long look around his office. “You work on all these computers at once?” she asked and went to touch one of the screens out of curiosity, but Harold quickly put his hand on it and held it in place. He immediately grabbed a tissue and removed what he was certain were greasy fingerprints.

“Sorry,” Sameen said, and wiped her hand on her dress. Well, someone's dress.

“Do you have a copy of your CV?” he asked, and the quizzical look on the applicant’s face told him she didn’t understand. “Your Curriculum Vitae?” he smiled and got a dead stare back. “Your…resume?” he tried.

It wasn’t that she didn’t understand him; it was that Sameen hated to repeat anything.

“I gave it to John,” she said, rolling her eyes. “The big lug didn’t give it to you?” she laughed and noticed that Harold wasn’t. She cleared her throat and explained that she only had that one copy and that anything that was on there, she was ready to tell Harold about.

If it weren’t for the fact that Harold Finch had impeccable manners, the interview would have concluded right then and there. The woman had breached every protocol so far. There was something about her, though, that made Harold feel he wanted to give her a second chance. He quickly texted John and asked him to forward her resume.

* * *

“Oh, oh,” John said as he waited in the smelly, noisy pooch parlor with Root and Bear. “I need to take care of this,” he said and walked outside where the stench of the sweltering heat was still a breath of fresh air compared to inside. He opened the crumpled pages, took two quick pictures of the scrawl and sent them to his employer. He'd be surprised if Shaw was still there when they got back.

“All set,” Root said, looking like the cover of Glamor Magazine, as Bear pulled her out of the establishment. “Doesn’t he look all pretty? “ she asked and did it for the sole purpose of making her security guard moan out loud in pain. “Bear needs a new collar,” she said with exuberance and John wondered who was having the worst day – him or Harold. He couldn’t wait for someone else to have to do this.

* * *

“Oh, dear,” Harold said…again…when the image of Sameen’s resume appeared on his computer screen. In the larger than life format, every wrinkle and stain was magnified. “Did you not have time to have this typed?” he asked and turned to the applicant for what the possible explanation could be for this. He was certain there were none.

In that few seconds of silence, Harold returned his gaze to the screen and could make out that, in fact, if the scrawl were true, Sameen did have an extensive background which could lend itself to the very thing they needed. “Medical doctor, Marines, U.S. Army Intelligence Support Activity, consultant to the NYPD and various private security detail assignments,” Harold read out loud and noticed Sameen nodded her head, but almost in repugnance.

It was time for some real questions.

“Why do you want this job, Miss Shaw?” Harold asked and noticed that he actually seemed to surprise the woman.

“Why?” she repeated and didn’t really have an answer. ‘Because Lionel won’t stop bugging me to get one? Because I sleep all day, drink all night and don’t give a fuck? Because I can do this job in my sleep and probably won’t last a week anyway? - were answers that flashed through her mind, but thankfully, never let her lips. She swallowed any small amount of emotion that the question raised and looked Harold straight in the eye. “Because no one will do it better.”

“I see,” Harold replied, even though he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even think to ask the quantifying questions that he would later plug into his program that contained algorithms to match candidates to the job requirements and rate them.

And yet …something about Sameen Shaw was permeating his very logical brain and getting past the many reasons he already knew she wouldn’t make it.

He wasn’t convinced at all that they needed her, but he felt almost certain …..Sameen Shaw needed this job.


	4. Afternoon Tea

There was little Lionel understood about women and he had the broken relationships to prove it. It was one of the reasons he liked his friend, Sameen, so much. In spite of her outward appearances of being one of the most attractive women he ever knew, he found that typical feminine logic didn’t apply to her. Or what he thought was feminine logic. He thought he ‘got’ Shaw. He attributed that to having served briefly together before Sameen moved over to more complex, more dangerous missions in the military. It seemed it was in her blood to either find trouble, or create it. But she was a good soldier and earned the respect of everyone who served with her, including Lionel. She was an even better consultant for the NYPD, helping him solve many cases by using her …less than orthodox …techniques.

Oh, yeah - and she saved his son.

When drug dealers found out the good detective had a kid, they visited the young Fusco after school one day soon after Sameen came back into his life. Then to torture his father, they sent him pictures of the boy at a secret location. Secret to everyone, but Shaw. She had been bored that day and took a drive by Lee’s school, a courtesy she never disclosed to Lionel. He had complained to his dad that some kids were bullying him, and Sameen was going to see the little darlings.  
When she saw the men approach Lee and pull him into a car, she followed them. Soon after Lionel received the call that his son had been kidnapped, he heard gun shots. His heart was pounding in his chest, his usual methodical mind went blank, and then he heard a familiar voice on the other end.

“Clean up in aisle three, Detective; 250 Greene Street. I’ll bring Lee home,” Sameen said as the boy wrapped his arms around her. “Okay, kid,” she said, uncomfortable with the physical sign of affection. “Let’s get something to eat.”

From that day on, Fusco Sr. made it his business to do whatever he could to help his friend. Of course, Lionel wasn’t exactly a smooth operator, and his idea of helping Sameen often bordered on badgering. She finally took night jobs, just so she could sleep all day and have the opposite schedule as her well intentioned pal.

She hadn’t known a bigger pain in her ass until she met John Reese that morning and she instinctively knew – he could outdo Lionel if he had the chance. Given how this interview process was going though, she didn’t think she’d have to worry. Finch had unmistakably hesitated when he suggested she return for round three.

It was as if he couldn’t believe he was actually saying the words.

* * *

As Samantha Groves walked through one set of revolving doors going into the building with John right behind her, Sameen was coming out another door. The sun hit her right in the eyes and she pushed her sunglasses on, blinded momentarily. She had been standing all of two minutes, but the stiletto heels she confiscated made her feet scream and she pushed them off, bent over, and picked them up. She left there with someone else’s outfit and another interview.

Another – freaking – interview.

She was certain that this was the lamest group of people she had ever had the displeasure to meet.

“How’d it go, Quickdraw,” Lionel asked, coming up behind her, and holding out a peace offering – a white bakery bag containing a large bear claw.

“That for me? That better be for me,” Shaw said in a warning tone, and with that, grabbed the bag.

“Your welcome,” Lionel said, not at all surprised at his friend’s rough manner. “I’m thinking we should enroll you in a finishing school,” he said, because it was always safer to talk to Shaw when she was eating.

“I’m thinking I need practice with my Glock,” she retorted, crumbs of crisp pastry covering her chest.

“Nice dress,” Lionel said because he couldn’t remember the last time he saw her in one.

“I saw it ….somewhere……and said, - I simply have to have it,” Sameen said, laughing at her own joke. The smile faded as fast as it appeared.

Lionel grabbed a water bottle from his suit pocket and handed it to the thirsty woman. “So, I didn’t travel all the way here for my health. You gonna tell me how it went?”

The famous eye roll and shake of the head was all the detective saw. “Fine,” she said sardonically.

“Fine…good? Or fine….you’re banned from the building?” he prompted her.

Just then, she thought she noticed someone in a very familiar looking outfit pointing outside in her direction. “Let’s walk,” she said and grabbed her friend’s arm.

“You know you have no shoes on and you could fry eggs on this sidewalk,” Lionel pointed out unnecessarily.

Sameen was certain the woman had convinced the security guard to come outside to take a look, so she just pulled Lionel with one hand, the shoes in the other. “Yeah, yeah.”

When she was certain the fashion police weren’t tailing them, she stopped zigzagging through the crowd and sat down at an outside café. “Where the hell do you put it?” Lionel asked – meaning the constant intake of calories. He looked at his watch. He had a full time job that usually interfered with this full time babysitting gig.

“I’m having a piece of cake!” Sameen said, telling the waiter exactly how she wanted it – apple pie; but only if the apples were real and not that canned shit. And she warned him that if he thought she couldn’t tell the difference and brought her that fake stuff, she’d shoot him in the foot.

Lionel laughed out loud and slowly pulled his jacket back to expose his detective badge on his belt to the young man who stood there wide eyed. Then he tilted his head, put his finger to it to indicate that his friend here …was…challenged. “Hey, Miss Congeniality,” he said as he sat down even though he didn’t have time. “You know, not everyone finds you as charming as I do.”

“Yeah,” Sameen said …sorta, kinda agreeing with her friend.

“So, what’s the next step?” he asked, resigned he was sitting there for a while and ordered iced tea. Then he nonchalantly took the high heel shoes off the table and dropped them by her feet during an extended eye roll.

“Dinner! Do you believe it?” she said as the waiter returned with the dessert and drink. He precariously put it down in front of the shoeless patron and waited. She gave him a good long stare before taking the fork and pulling up the crust to inspect the contents. She looked back up and her expression all but read – “I’ll let you live”. The waiter slowly backed away.

“What’s up with him?” she shrugged, taking a bite so large that Lionel silently went through the steps of the Heimlich maneuver.

“Geezus, Shaw,” the detective said, staring as Sameen wiped away a glob of pie. He handed her a napkin to use instead of her hand.

“What?” she questioned sincerely. She was done with the pie before the sugar had dissolved in his iced tea.

“I hope you don’t actually have to eat with anyone tonight,” he said out loud and regretted it.

For an unbelievably tough broad, Shaw sure had thin skin when it came to comments about her eating habits. “Are you saying I can’t eat with people around?” she asked defensively, pushing back in the chair, and crossing her arms.

Lionel could have shot himself in the foot for letting that comment come out of his mouth. “I gotta go,” he said, taking his wallet out to pay. One look at the ‘don’t you dare’ expression on his friend’s face made him put it back in his pocket before he was sorry. As much as he worried about Shaw, he rarely could spend any amount of time with her before an argument erupted. It seemed anything he said, set her off. So he saved his windows of opportunity for when it really mattered. Like getting this job.

“Just be…,” he started to say - when ‘yourself’ was the opposite of what he wanted her to do. “On time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, paying the check and leaving twice the amount in a tip.

That was the thing about Shaw – underneath that Kevlar exterior coated in Teflon and covered in spikes – beat a heart of gold.

Fusco was one of few people who had the extraordinary skill of actually being able to hear it.


	5. Food For Thought

When John returned to Harold’s office, he found the man scrubbing his desk with disinfectant wipes. This wasn’t an unusual sight for the fastidious man who prided himself on order and spotlessness.

“Shaw touch your stuff?” John said, with what could be considered a hint of a smile.

Harold wasn’t sure where to begin to answer that, so he simply fell back in his seat. “This…..,” he said, turning his newly scrubbed screen to John, “…..is her resume?” His tone was filled with disbelief …..and some horror.

“I have the original …..,” John said, and went to take it out of his inner pocket, but Harold assured him it was not necessary. In fact, he was emphatic about it. “Sorry about that, Harold,” John said, feeling like he played a trick on the man he greatly respected.

It wasn’t many people who would adopt – and not in the legal sense, but honorable sense, a brilliant runaway and provide her with everything she needed. Harold saw beyond the juvenile delinquent for the genius within. It wasn’t just that Samantha Groves never wanted for any material things once Harold became her guardian; he saw to it that she flourished in the zigzag line of her maturation. Root, as she wanted to be called, never did anything the easy way. Or the typical way. Or, sometimes, even the lawful way. That’s when Harold hired John and gave him the duty of keeping his ‘niece’ out of trouble …..and jail.

“Oh, no, that’s quite alright, Mr. Reese,” Harold said, always preferring the formal name, but occasionally slipping into the more relaxed first name basis. “She was…..”

“The worst candidate we’ve seen so far?” John heard his lips say and swore he was going to keep that to himself.

“I was going to say …interesting,” Harold corrected him, surprised that John was so forthcoming. Even John was startled, but he decided that this was the effect Shaw had on people – she unhinged them.

“Yeah, that too,” John recouped. “She’s got a ton of experience….”

“And she’s a medical doctor!” Harold said, astonished. “I do like that.”

“Any idea how you’ll sell her to Root?” John asked and it was his way of nonchalantly suggesting to Harold that he was the man for the job.

“I had hoped you’d put in a good word,” Harold said and then read the expression on John’s face. It told him, John would have trouble coming up with good words to attach to Shaw.

“She….uhm…comes highly recommended….sorta…..,” John said slowly.

“Well, I think Miss Groves will be able to make the final decision. I set up an appointment for Miss Shaw to meet her for dinner,” Harold explained.

The period wasn’t at the end of his sentence when John sat forward in the chair and said – “Dinner?” His skeptical tone was unmistakable.

“Well, I just thought…,” Harold was saying as he recalled watching the applicant shove the food into her mouth. “She …is…a fascinating choice.”

John smiled at Harold’s description and didn’t say another word out of respect for the fact that he knew Harold was struggling with the diplomatic way to look at this. An uncomfortable silence befell the two men as neither wanted to say anything else on the matter. “Well, I need to …..check,” John indicated and broke Harold’s trance.

“Oh yes, of course,” he said and realized John was simply leaving …he didn’t say to where.

* * *

No sooner had John escaped, when Bear came walking into Harold’s office. “Maybe you could tell her?” he asked the canine who only came by for a treat. The dog totally disagreed and let Harold know by growling and spreading his paws out in front of him. “I don’t blame you,” Harold conceded.

It wasn’t that Root was difficult; it was that she just had her own way of doing things.

Harold decided that he would accompany Bear back to Root’s office and segue into the dinner interview. Much to his surprise, she seemed quite agreeable. In fact, almost too agreeable.

“For dinner, Uncle Harry?” she asked, using his familial title. It was the one she used when she wanted something. Sometimes, he was just Harry or Harold to her, because he was more her guardian angel than uncle. “No problem,” she said, although he noticed she seemed to be trying to get him out of the office. “Who is it again?”

“A Miss Sameen Shaw. She was here today,” Harold said and apologized for not having her resume with him. He was having his secretary type it up in a presentable format. Not that Root ever looked at the resumes of the applicants. She had her own style of interrogating. “She’s been a doctor, former Marine, oh, and yes, a consultant to the NYPD most recently. On occasion,” Harold tried to tell her.

Root stopped in her tracks as she was walking Harold out of her office. “A doctor?” she asked with interest.

“Well, I checked, actually …,” Harold said because that is what he did. “She didn’t complete her residency, but did receive excellent grades for her technical skills.”

“Close enough,” Root said, her mind racing with this new information. “Would you say she’s a …healthy woman?” she asked, and Harold was surprised by the inquiry.

He thought back to how ferocious Sameen’s appetite was and how he surmised she didn’t struggle with concern over a healthy diet. “Yes,” he finally said. “I believe she is in very good shape.”

“Perfect,” Root said, as she decided she could accomplish everything she needed to do that day.

“Now, Root, promise me you’ll give her a chance in the interview,” Harold said, certain now that Root wanted him to leave because she had practically walked him to the elevator.

“Camp Fire Promise,” Root said, giving the appropriate, albeit outdated, hand signal. She then did the unusual thing of kissing Harold on the cheek. “Thanks, Uncle Harry,” she said as the elevator door closed.

There was a great deal about Root that Harold understood; her genius with technology; her inability to form lasting relationships; her insistence to do things her own way. He had the feeling she was up to something, but that was a daily occurrence with Root.

* * *

Root’s genius lay in finding solutions that other people thought impossible. Someone else, who was about to interview a candidate for security might meet over dinner. But that was around the time that she was supposed to be at the airport. Someone else might go over the questions you would want to ask a body guard to make sure they were the right candidate. Root believed in giving them a different kind of test; something of a more practical nature.  
Root sat down at her desk and began reviewing her dossier. Unbeknownst to her uncle, Root had made arrangements to leave that night to personally deliver a cargo load of tablets; all programed with her latest software package to diagnose diseases in rural areas that rarely saw doctors.

The reason Root wasn’t telling Harold or Reese was because the area she was traveling to was …Cameroon.

“What better place for an interview?” Root said to Bear, who only whined his concern. “Of course you’re coming. I wouldn’t dream of hiring anyone without your approval,” she said, hugging the dog who rarely left her side.


	6. Dinner

The thing that annoyed Sameen the most about this long drawn out interview was that her gut told her she wasn’t going to get it anyway. She always followed her gut because it rarely, if ever, let her down. She escaped more than one close call by listening to it. That’s why she decided not to change or do much else to prepare for her dinner interview. She picked up the pocketbook she …borrowed….. with the outfit she had on and tried to shove her gun into it, but not matter how she tried, some part of it stuck out. “Oh, what the hell,” she said, putting the Glock back in the refrigerator. “Not like I’m going to need a gun on an interview,” she decided. Then she thought about how boring the first two were and grabbed her Nano and shoved it in the purse. Just in case.

She hoped she didn’t need it. If Lionel told her once, he told her a million times; you can’t shoot people because of their flaws. Still, she didn’t think she’d need it. She was meeting a spoiled, probably pretentious, brilliant (so they say) woman who Sameen was certain, if she had to, she could snap like a twig.

* * *

Across town, Samantha Groves readied, not for dinner, but for her entire night ahead. She had to play this one right or someone would get whiff of her plan and ruin it. Sure Harold had a good point about the dangers of traveling to the remote locations, and John made sense when he suggested they send in their own couriers to deliver the product, but that’s not how she wanted to do it. Sam was not one to take the back seat to anything she felt needed to be done. And now, as if the gods were giving their blessing, they sent her a doctor. The new recruit was the missing piece to Root’s puzzle. All she required now was the new employee’s cooperation. And she packed everything she needed in her bag that would guarantee she’d get it. “She can quit after this,” Root reasoned as she put the Taser in her bag.

For two normal looking women, there sure were a lot of weapons going on this interview.

* * *

Shaw showed up early, not out of courtesy, but because she wanted to see what kind of menu the place had. “I swear, if this is one of those chichi places that only serve vegan, I’m leaving,” she promised herself. So determined was she, that as soon as she entered the restaurant, she asked the Maître d’ if steak was on the menu. She was assured that it was. “Okay, fine,” she said and only then, did she tell him who she was meeting.

By the time Sameen had gotten to the establishment, Root had already done her homework. Not the full blown search that she ordinarily did, but enough to enlighten her about the applicant. She was armed with all the info she needed.  
Sameen had done no homework. After all, she believed she pretty much had the brainy entrepreneur figured out. That was probably Shaw’s first mistake.

“Sameen Shaw?” Root said, rising from her seat at the quiet table for two. “I’m Samantha Groves, but my friends call me Root.”

“Ms. Groves,” Sameen said and sat down after shaking her hand. Shaw was in a hurry to get this over with and eat. Not necessarily in that order.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me for dinner,” Root said pleasantly, and she seemed to be taking her time.

‘Oh great!’ Shaw thought to herself. ‘She’s going to ask stupid questions, then order dinner, and while I’m trying to enjoy it, she’ll say - sorry, you don’t have the job’.

“I read your resume, Sameen,” Root said and by that, she meant, I searched you with search engines most people don’t know exist and hacked into places most people couldn’t. “You certainly have a lot of experience,” she said and waved off the waiter as he approached.

“Yeah, well….,” Sameen said, because she didn’t like to talk about herself. “I can dead lift a hundred and forty five pounds, but I left that off.” ‘Damn!’ Sameen thought to herself when she heard how sarcastic that sounded.

“Wow! I’m quite impressed!” Root said, but added …”I have no idea what that means, but …wow!’ I take that is a measure of how strong you are?” she guessed.

Shaw looked across at the woman and her girly reaction. ‘Really?’ her entire face said. “Look,” Sameen said, rolling her eyes. “Do you have …..like, any questions for me?”

“Yes,” Root said unfazed and folded her hands in front of her. “Are you up to date on all your inoculations?”

Sameen frowned and turned her head from side to side, to see if anyone else heard this ridiculous question. “Are you thinking of biting me?” she asked, but that was the wrong question. Root had already decided that Shaw was the right choice and once she made up her mind, there was no going back.

A complete look of satisfaction came over Root’s face as the considered the many ways to answer that question. No, she’d wait before actually answering. “You don’t happen to carry your passport with you, do you?”

Shaw had enough. “Look,” she said, a forced smile on her face because she was in public, “I don’t know about my inoculations, I don’t carry any of my passports, but what I do carry is a Nano in my purse. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll order my dinner to go and you can tell King Nerd and the Lunk we met and I didn’t meet your ….your…..standards.”

Root sat back and smiled at her new employee. She was not boring, that was for sure. “Mother from Iran?” Root said, trying to impress the smaller woman who sat across from her. Shaw was never impressed with personal information. In fact, it set her off.

“That’s it!” she said, wiping her mouth with the white linen napkin even though she hadn’t eaten anything. “We’re done here.”

“I thought you’d be impressed,” Root said sincerely.

“Impressed?” Shaw said incredulously. “Look, I don’t know what it is that you people want. I thought it was someone to do security, but I think Reese is looking for someone to take you off his hands; I think Harold is looking for someone to talk sense into you; and I think you’re looking for a BFF to go makeup shopping with and swap secrets. I’m out.”

Maybe if Shaw weren’t so hungry, she would have taken things a little slower, but she had had enough. She thought John was cocky and Harold was neurotic. But this chick took the cake. She was just downright weird.  
Someone else might have been surprised that the petite woman threw the napkin down and stormed out, but Root was impressed. Sameen certainly wasn’t out to sway her like all the other candidates had tried. No, this woman was five feet three inches of pure attitude. And a doctor. She was perfect for what Root needed.

Now, she had two choices. She could talk Shaw into it or …. She could taze her. Root had a feeling it wasn’t going to be the first one.

* * *

Sameen knew as soon as she stepped outside that her lack of patience had, once again, gotten the better of her. “Damn!” she said as she made her feet move forward, even though her head said she might consider going back in ….apologize….and order that steak. But once her anger was unleashed, it was almost impossible to rein it back in. Especially, she decided, for weird people.

“Wasn’t even meant to be,” she said resigned upon entering her apartment and as she ripped off the dress and rolled up the high heels in it and put on some shorts and a t shirt. She went to the fridge……that was void of food….and seethed all over again. She could have had steak. She wondered if she called the restaurant and told them she left before ordering……no, that wouldn’t work. She poured herself a large glass of whisky and set out to do what her gut told her to do – forget about this whole day. She was only half done with her drink when she saw the dress rolled up in a ball. She emptied the pocketbook, took it with the dress and shoes, and walked into the hallway where she shoved them down the incinerator.  
“There!” she uttered out loud. “That is the end of that.”

Sameen walked back into her apartment, bare of any personal items, and guzzled down the last of her drink. Then she unceremoniously flopped into her bed, fighting like hell to get those three people out of her head. “Seriously, what the hell, Fusco,” she said as if the day had been payback. It had to have been, she thought, with so much torture jam packed into so few hours.

She drifted off to an unsettled sleep pitted with dreams she couldn’t get out of. First, she felt the incredible sting of a Taser; a sound she was familiar with because she had used it to subdue some perps. She wouldn’t be surprised if she were dreaming about those guys, because it seemed her hellish day was bleeding right into a hellish night.

The dream was so real, she felt the burn on her neck. She went to reach for it, but something was pulling her down – a heavy weight. Maybe she had finally had too much to drink.

* * *

What seemed like minutes, but in fact, were hours later, she finally felt as if she landed in a soft, comfortable place. It was the most comfy chair she had ever sat in. A small smirk crossed her dead sleep drenched face as she mocked that someone would think she’d give up information in such cushy surroundings. This dream was too exhausting and she had given all her energy over to Team Crazy that day. Normally, she would fight even in these dreams. No one ever got Sameen. Not even in her dream state would she falter. But ….something was…. holding her back.

In the next few milliseconds, the former Marine, highly trained Army operative realized that she wasn’t dreaming. There was a low hum surrounding her that told her she was midair. Moving the slightest muscle told her that her hands were tied to the arm rests. She finally fought off the drug that sedated her and opened her eyes groggily.

“Sorry about that,” the familiar voice in front of her said. She blinked until the image became clearer. She tried to remember if she blacked out at the restaurant, because there was the woman who sat across from her at dinner. No, she had been home; she was certain of it.

This lunatic did something!

“Which part?” Shaw asked, looking around the cabin of the plane and pulling against the restraints. “The tazing, the drugging, or …whatever this is?” she said, pulling against her bindings.

“I was afraid you’d say no,” Root said, as if her explanation was completely reasonable.

“To...... the tazing, the drugging, or …the zip-ties?” Shaw asked, trying to plan her escape.

“Now Sameen,” Root said, as if they had been best friends. “I can explain all of this. I had to make sure you’d hear me out.”

Shaw just used that time to push her brain to think clearly.

“I have a really important project and I need you to help me. I thought I could convince you to come last night, but when you stormed out…” Root said.

“Project?” Shaw asked.

“Yes, and I needed someone like you to team up with,” Root explained.

“I’ll pass. Trust issues,” Shaw retorted and felt as if she were almost 100 percent ready to pounce.

“Oh, well, that’s easy,” Root said and produced a knife. “I’m happy to take the first step.” Carefully and slowly, Root slipped the knife under the zip tie and sliced it. Then the second one.

In an instant, Shaw had the knife and lunged at Root who simply seemed to accept she was being attacked. “This is the part where you give me one good reason…,” Shaw threatened.

“I’ll give you thirty thousand….,” Root said calmly, looking at the plane window. She was, of course, refereeing to the altitude at which they were flying.

“You kidnapped me? And are taking me on a joy ride in a plane? And you think I won’t kill you and throw your body out the hatch door?” Shaw asked, formulating her revenge. She was still leaning into her captor with the blade at her neck.

“Well, no, I mean, you could, but we’re actually on a mission, not a joy ride,” Root explained and only rubbed her neck a little where Shaw had held the knife briefly.

“What kind of mission?” Shaw asked, folding the knife closed and sitting back down. Only then did she feel the intense pain in her buttock. Her hand flew to the spot where it hurt as she looked up at the crazy woman who had abducted her.

“Sorry, sweetie, but when you said you didn’t know if you were up to date on your inoculations, well, I couldn’t take any chances,” Root explained and smiled sheepishly.

Shaw looked at her in horror. “You shot me….?”

“Well, I …gave you a shot, not technically shot you,” Root clarified.

With that, she pressed a button that notified the steward that he should bring breakfast. Within seconds, a cart was being wheeled over to them and Root took the napkin off and placed it on the stunned Shaw’s lap. “I believe I owe you a steak,” she said as the man lowered the cart and placed it in-between the two women.

Sameen looked down at the most delicious steak she had ever seen in her life, with a mashed potato and green beans. The aroma of the food was making her weaken, just a little. She held back as long as she could until she dove into the meal, cutting off a large piece of steak and shoving into her mouth. She actually moaned when she tasted how good it was.

“Don thik dis changez anythin,” she warned Root, with her mouth full of delicious sirloin.

“Of course not,” Root smiled, happy that her guest was enjoying her meal. “Of course not.”


	7. Chew On This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to all who are reading along.

“So…is this your twisted way of telling me I got the job?” Shaw said, savoring the last piece of her steak. The plate was almost clean.

“Well, I may have spoken out of turn,” Root said, but she was smiling.

“If you say physical exam, I’m going to shove this fork…,” Shaw spit out. She still hadn’t decided if she liked this woman or not. On the negative, she had already physically accosted her. On the plus side; she had to be pretty good to get away with that. The jury was still out as to whether or not Root would live to tell the tale.

“No, silly!” Root said, and clicked her teeth to make Bear come. The animal ran to his beloved owner and sat at her side.

“You …have a dog?” Shaw said in amazement, and almost stopped chewing. She hurried that last piece of steak because if there was one thing that unraveled her armor, it was dogs. She almost revealed that, but instead, coughed and pushed back in the chair like she didn’t care. “Nice.” She refused to make eye contact with the beast she already decided was magnificent.

“This is Bear,” Root said, introducing the canine. “And I’m afraid I’ve promised him that he would have the final say about you.”

Shaw‘s eye narrowed on her captor. “So, you tasered, drugged and kidnapped me, but what? If I fail the canine portion of the interview, I get a parachute and get dropped off over the ocean?” The more she talked, the tighter her voice got because in Sameen’s mind, this was utterly ridiculous.

Shaw hadn’t even come close to utterly yet, but she had no way of knowing that.

Root laughed and hugged the pet, pushing his pointy ears down. “I kinda promised,” she said in a low voice and Shaw was certain she did that so the dog wouldn’t overhear her.

Even Bear caught the eye roll on that and let out a long whine from his throat. While Root stared at the dog who, in turn, stared at their guest, Shaw’s patience meter was dropping towards empty. Still, she quickly calculated that while she was certain the world would agree with her that Root was crazy, the dog may not. She didn’t want to wind up a doggy snack thirty thousand feet in the air.

“Would you mind….if he…..?” Root finally said, and Shaw retreated in her chair. She still had the knife that she took from Root, but that wouldn’t help with ninety pounds of Shepherd on her arm. “Could you put your hand out? Slowly! Palm up!” Root instructed.

Shaw wondered where that guy was that brought the steak. Wasn’t it time for him to collect the empty plate? She swallowed hard and slowly lowered her hand, palm open, and put it out in the direction of the dog. “Zeg hallo, Bear,” Root said and the dog moved his head forward and smelled Sameen’s hand.

“He understands Dutch,” Root said, matter of factly.

“Of-course-he-does,” Shaw said through her teeth as she tried to appear friendly.

Maybe it was the smell of sirloin, or the bits of gravy still on Shaw’s hand, or the fact that animals loved her, but Bear licked her hand and didn’t stop when she smiled uncomfortably and retrieved it. The dog kept nudging her hand, until she finally agreed to pet him. He turned to look at Root.

“You’re in!” she said in a giddy voice as if Shaw were the newest member of the sorority. She got up and the steward appeared to clear away the dishes.

“Komen,” he said to the dog and Bear whined to have to leave his new friend, but did so because it was time to eat.

“He likes you!” Root said, as she sat back down with her laptop. “Now let me…,” she started, but Sameen was covered in doggie spit.

“Uhm, could I use the restroom before the new employee orientation starts?” Shaw asked, getting up from her seat.

“Oh, of course,” Root said and pointed to the back of the cabin. Before Sameen reached the door though, Root called out to her. “The parachutes are all located up here,” she said, in case Sameen had any plans of jumping ship.

Root couldn’t have been happier. Although she prided herself on being an excellent read on people, she was especially pleased with Sameen. She had to hand it to John; he had outdone himself with this selection. She wondered how the two of them actually got along given that they both seemed the independent want to be in charge types. She, on the other hand, didn’t see that as an issue at all.

Sameen was in the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face and stretching to see if there was much of a burn mark where she was tasered. There wasn’t. There also wasn’t any lingering effect of the sedative which was good, in case she had to move quickly. She looked up into the mirror over the sink and saw her reflection. “What the hell did you get me into, Fusco?” she said to it.

* * *

Harold was particularly antsy as he tapped away at the keys that morning while John sat in his office. “Well, you were right,” he said to his security director. “She chartered the private plane that left last night,” he shared as he connected the dots of Root’s absence.

“Did she take the dog?” John asked, sipping his coffee, not terribly surprised that she had done this. Harold just looked up at him, but finally confirmed that she did. “Not sure that cabin pressure is good for him,” John said, revealing his real concern.

“Mr. Reese!” Harold said because there was more to the puzzle than just whether or not the dog was with her. “She took a passenger!”

“Really?” John said with interest. His boss wasn’t exactly known for being discriminating when it came to the people she associated with. “Any idea who?” he put his coffee down and waited as Harold hacked the manifest filed with the FAA. Just then, his phone vibrated in his jacket. It was a text from Lionel, asking if John could help him with a missing person’s case. ‘Thought you were homicide?’ he texted back as Harold feverishly tapped the keys, trying to open the manifest document.  
“This is personal,” Fusco responded. “You in or you out?”

John shoved his phone back into his pocket. Without Root to tail all day, he might be able to help Fusco out. “Any chance I could take a couple of hours….,” he was about to ask.

“Oh, dear…..,” Harold said slowly when he read the name.

John worried it was one of the characters Root had done business with in the past. “What is it?”

“Not what, John. Who! It appears she took Miss Shaw with her!” Harold said, unable to figure out last night’s details.

“Shaw?” John asked astounded. He reached for his phone and texted Lionel, all the time thinking….no, this can’t be. “Who’s missing?” he asked. And sure enough, Lionel confirmed that he was looking for his friend. “I know where she is,” John said and Lionel rolled his eyes.

“Coco Puffs hired her?” Lionel asked in amazement.

“Something like that,” John responded and asked Fusco to come to the office.

Then Reese looked at Harold who was quite concerned about his niece. “I’m truly worried for her safety, John. There’s no telling what will greet her when she gets off that plane!”

“If…. she gets off that plane,” John slipped and then tried to smile to cover up his own worry. “I’ll….see what I can do,” he said to make up for it, and left in a hurry.

* * *

John rallied his team to figure out what Root was up to and what dangers might lay ahead for her. When Lionel arrived, he pulled his friend into the office so no one else would hear.

“Listen, Lionel, can you vouch for that woman? I mean, she didn’t seem too steady to me,” John inquired.

“Shaw? Yeah, she’s…..you know, a good kid. You know, as long as you don’t piss her off,” Fusco said, wanting to tell the truth ….in a roundabout way.

“Wait, how did you know she was missing?” John asked.

“Neighbor called me. Said she saw Sameen being carried out to a car by a tall, thin woman. So, you think Banana Nut Crunch took her on a road trip already?” Lionel asked.

John looked at him with a very serious expression. “They’re together, that’s all I know.

“Where are they?” Lionel asked.

John looked at his watch and tried to calculate their flight. “They’ll land in a few hours. I hope.”

Lionel knew Shaw, but John knew Samantha. And if Shaw had as little patience as he figured out after knowing her a very short time, there was no telling what would happen to the two of them in closed quarters…. Thirty thousand feet in the air.


	8. Biting Off More Than You Can Chew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: taking full poetic license here ...

By the time Shaw returned to her seat, there were new clothes laid out, complete with boots and a satchel of what she expected to be -weapons. “What’s all this?” Shaw naturally asked. 

“Well, you can’t expect to dress like that,” Root said, indicating the athletic shorts and t shirt that her captive had been abducted in. 

“Maybe next time you can give me some warning you’re going to taze, drug, and capture me, and I’ll pack a bag,” Shaw snapped, her sarcasm back on full throttle. 

Root stopped what she was doing and leaned back on the chair; a look of responsiveness on her face. Sameen figured this was where Root was going to apologize for her extreme tactics. Instead she got ….empathy. “That really bothered you,” Root noted with understanding. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Sameen cocked her head as she stared at the woman. Root hadn’t apologized! She had asked Shaw to discuss her feelings about the very thing she did. “Are you totally insane? I mean, are there papers somewhere in a file in your Uncle’s office that someone, a psychiatrist maybe…..,” Shaw started ranting, but the pilot announced they were nearing their destination. 

“We better get ready,” Samantha said and grabbed her laptop and shoved it in the backpack. 

“Great!” Shaw said, and sat down to buckle herself in, mumbling the whole time about the irony of Root’s question. She had just snapped the fastener when she noticed her abductor was not sitting across from her. 

“Oh, no, Sweetie, we’re not actually …..landing. The terrain is too rough for the plane,” Root explained and it was a good thing Shaw was secured in her seat. 

“WHAT?” she yelled, and tried to unbuckle her the fastener so she could shake Root senseless. “Let me just….if I can get out….I’m going to …..,” she threatened without completing a thought. 

“You really need to change,” Root said, holding out the clothes. 

How did she do it? How was it that the inflection in her voice never changed; she was always calm? How had she managed to get under her captive’s skin ….at lightning speed. These were the questions that nagged at Sameen as she clumsily struggled with the clasp. Root saw her stressed and bent down and unhooked it gently. 

She might as well have poured gasoline on the fire. 

Shaw pushed Root’s hand away and stood up. “I might as well tell you, I’m probably going to kill you before we get back.” Shaw rarely issued a threat that she didn’t intend to scare someone. 

But was Root scared? 

“Oh, Sameen, you say the cutest things,” Root laughed and started to bring the parachutes to the door. 

The steward came out just as Shaw was mid-dress and apologized. “Bear is secure in the cockpit, madam,” he said to Root and began picking up anything that might be a projectile when they opened up the hatch door. 

“They’re taking us in as close as they can,” Root explained calmly like they were being dropped off at a rest stop on the highway. “We should be able to land in a fairly large opening,” she shouted as she donned the parachute and helmet. “Let me help,” she said, but Sameen found it hard to accept assistance from someone she was pretty sure she was going to kill. 

“How long will it be until we hit the ground?” Shaw asked as she got ready. 

“At this low altitude, just a few minutes,” Root answered as she secured everything she needed. 

“I can plan a murder in that time,” Shaw affirmed, but no one heard her. 

When the pilot indicated they were over their target, and the two women secured to the cable, the hatch door was released - the rush of air tossing them around for a minute. Then, Root approached the opening and gave Shaw thumbs up. “See you on the ground,” she shouted as she leaned out the door and jumped. 

Shaw approached the opening. “Great!” she said of her tour guide. “Crazy and fearless. The worst combination.” 

With that, Sameen took a deep breath and jumped. Minutes later, she watched Root below land in the opening with the skill of a trained marine. Not to be outdone, Shaw landed on her feet and twisted so her parachute didn’t billow up and grab her. “I knew you could do it,” Root said, as she took her parachute off. 

“Do I look like the kind of person who needs encouragement?” Shaw asked, but Root already had her laptop opened and was checking coordinates.

“Mind telling me what we’re doing in the middle of …nowhere?” Shaw asked, trying to see if she could decipher anything from the little info she had. Given the length of time they were flying, the terrain, and the sunset, she knew they were somewhere in Cameroon. 

“I really should have prepared a report for you, “ Root said, standing up and looking around. “Here’s the gist; I am bringing a shipload of tablets that will be distributed to the far reaches of the villages here and the surrounding areas,” she started. 

“Did we …forget the packages?” Shaw said and looked skyward. 

“No, they’re being air dropped at another location. It’s too dangerous here,” Root said, putting her computer away and looking at her watch. 

“Too dangerous,” Shaw repeated and nodded her head. “So, the plan is ….?” She could have kicked herself for letting this lunatic be in charge.

“We have to get to the drop point by tomorrow, but first, we have to get through …customs,” Root said and Shaw just looked at her. She knew that was code for something. 

“Uhm, you didn’t happen to pack a tent in there, did you?” Shaw asked because it was going to get dark soon and they were surrounded by dense trees. “No, wait, let me guess,” she said mockingly. “You watched the Survival Channel with Bear Grylls.”

“I’m a former Camp Fire Girl,” Root said and her pride was dead serious. 

The trained former soldier knew that she had to ignore the craziness and figure out a plan immediately. Shaw excelled at figuring out tactics under pressure. It was what made her so good. She took one circular look around and came to the conclusion. “Okay, our best bet is to keep walking west….,” Shaw said and started to walk that way, expecting of course, Root would follow. She got about twenty paces before she realized that Root was not behind her and in fact, was walking in the opposite direction.   
“I am not chasing her,” Shaw said, standing there, waiting for Root to turn around. “She can walk into that forest, get eaten by wild dogs or trampled by elephants and I will not ….”

“Shaw, you coming?” Root called back when she finally realized she was alone. 

Shaw puffed out a long breath and shook her head. “As soon as she’s done delivering these tablets, I’m killing her.” She walked the distance between them as Root stood there, taking in the sites, looking around like you would if you just landed in Rome.   
“How the hell do you expect us to get through that bush up there and make camp for the night?” Shaw asked as soon as she got close enough. “You know there are probably sixty kinds of snakes between us and your drop off point?” she noted and immediately looked down. She should have checked those weapons before they jumped. “What did you pack in this? Water pistols? It feels a little on the light side.” 

Root kept walking, never once stopping to answer any of Shaw’s valid questions. “Shhhh,” Root said and put a finger to her lips. 

That was it. Shaw lost it. 

“I swear to God……,” and she stopped because she didn’t know what to call her. “I….am going to …..slowly…..,” she stammered because the number of ways she was going to harm Root were too many to enumerate. “Do you even know where we’re going?”

“Of course I do,” Root said, but her tone was reassuring, not insulted. “Here they come now.” 

Shaw stopped and steadied herself. Up ahead were a group of men dressed in fatigues and wearing guns. “Root, we need to take cover ….now!”

“There’s nowhere to hide, Shaw,” Root said, smiling and not moving her lips. “They’ve seen us. I expected this,” she said and that didn’t help Sameen feel safe at all. 

“You knew there were guerilla gangs out here?” she asked, feeling like a sitting duck as the men closed in on them. They began shouting loudly at the two women and Root immediately put her hands up and urged the woman who never gave up to do the same. “Did you really think it was a good idea to drop down into the insurgents’ backyard?” she seethed. 

“That’s why I hired a bodyguard,” Root explained smiling. 

There was a lot of shouting and weapons were pointed at them, telling them not to try anything. Sameen’s head reeled as she tried to figure out which one of the men to take out first, acquiring his gun, so she could shoot the others.   
“When I am done shooting them……,” she whispered to her boss, “ …I’m going to save one bullet.” 

There was no mistaking the threat in her voice, but Samantha was, as usual, unfazed. “Don’t be hasty,” Root said. “Now open your backpack and give them what they want.” 

Shaw was dumbfounded. There was nothing in the men’s movements that indicated they saw the backpacks or wanted them. This insane woman was giving up the only thing that might give them a chance. The men shouted and Root put up her finger, telling them to wait. Maybe handing over their weapons would buy them time. Shaw slowly slid off the backpack, held it in one hand as she unzipped it. She opened it and showed the man who stepped forward - who was the obvious leader. Sameen’s mind continued to work out her next move. She would grab the gun he retrieved, hold it on him, and threaten the others to back off. Hostage taking 101. 

Except as soon as he put his hand in, he grabbed something …..that looked like a ……book. 

“Elle les a!” the man shouted happily and turned to the group of men who shouted in unison.

Shaw looked in the bag …it was stuffed with ……paperback books. She took one out. “Gentle Rogue?” she read out loud and threw it back in. “Captured?” she said and one of them jumped forward and grabbed that one. “You have GOT to be kidding me,” Shaw said as Root smiled broadly and handed the books out. 

“What can I say, Sameen. Everyone loves a good romance story.”


	9. Food Fight

In spite of how late it was in New York, John called Harold with the update. The good news was that they located the plane and it had landed safely. The bad news was that his niece and her new body guard were not on board. Harold couldn’t figure it out, but it didn’t take John long to surmise that it was possible they parachuted down to another location.

“Why would she do such a thing?” Harold asked and John wanted to counter with – “Why does Samantha do anything the way she does?” …but he could hear the man was really worried.

“I still have some contacts …in places….,” John assured Harold. “We’ll keep checking it out.” John made some more calls, hoping someone he knew could reach out to someone they knew and get him some solid information.

“Thank you, John,” Harold said and went back to work. There was no pretending he was going to sleep.

Harold was worried that his niece hadn’t accounted for all the dangers she could encounter; John was worried she had kidnapped the biggest threat to her safety.

* * *

Sameen watched the men scramble for the books the way kids do when the candy drops out of the piñata. They argued when two reached for the same book with declarations of ‘I saw it first’, that in any language, you could understand.

“You brought……. romance novels ….to a gun fight?” Shaw declared in a tone of disbelief and admiration. This just didn’t make sense, but then again, nothing about this journey did.

“Charles Makoun is their leader. Their turf has been shrinking over the years and since they get most of their supplies by other means, the barter for passage has changed. But….,” Root explained as the men each grabbed a book. “…that doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous.” She wasn’t naïve enough not to know things could change on a dime.

The distribution was over and the men all stood up as if they just remembered what their purpose was. Passage through the territory they controlled couldn’t be made to be so easy or everyone would know. Charles knew he had to establish himself as the leader, especially in front of his men. A burly man with a kind face, he yelled at the men to get back in position. Then, he pointed his gun at Sameen and spoke to Root. It had been a long time since she used her French, and the local dialect made it even harder to pick out words, but Shaw was almost certain the man was asking Root how much she wanted for her. Sameen watched as Root looked back at her – like she was thinking his proposal over. She walked over and told Shaw to stand still as she raised her arm and pointed to it. Then she mimed picking up something heavy and struggling with it……and all the men broke out in laughter.

Shaw got the distinct impression that her kidnapper just told the men that she was ….a weakling!

Sameen’s breathing became jagged as she watched Samantha explain in words and acting out – how she carried her down the stairs. The men found this hilarious and some of them imitated the scenario that Root just described. The entire group was in an uproar …except the object of their scornful play.

No-one-mocked-Sameen-Shaw.

Root was slowly learning just how short a fuse her new employee ha. She slowly turned to put her arm around Shaw’s shoulder so she could get close enough to whisper. “They naturally assume you’re mine to barter with. If I bragged about how incredibly strong and able bodied you were, they’d take you…..” and she saw anger flash in dark eyes when the shorter woman’s head snapped to look at her. “….TRY…to take you,” Root corrected herself. “We have to make that location by tomorrow morning and this is the only place between here and there we can stay and be safe for the night.”

Shaw had assumed a lot of different identities in her line of work before, but none of them were ever of a weakling. She stood there listening to what her insane boss was telling her and considered her options. She hated to admit it, but Root had managed to get them this far without firing a single shot. Unfortunately, she was emasculating Shaw in the process.

“Fine!” she spat and added, “But I want a gun.”

Root understood how hard this must be for a woman who obviously prided herself on her strength and nerves of steel. She explained to the leader that Shaw was her body guard and as such, wanted a gun. Instead of denying the request, the men started laughing all over again. They passed guns back and forth and when they were on the receiving end, they dropped the weapon like it was too heavy. One took a pistol and tried to pull the trigger, and grunted when he faked being unable to do it.

Shaw watched in horror as she was ridiculed and taunted.

“I think they really like you,” Root said happily as the men wiped tears of laughter from their eyes and started to walk towards their camp.

Two of them walked behind the women, pointing their rifles at them to follow the group.

“I’m going after him…,” Shaw said of the man who was imitating her the most, “…..first.”

“Threatening them isn’t going to help,” Samantha explained as if Shaw was picking a fight with the schoolyard bullies. As quick a study as Root was, there was still plenty she didn’t yet know about Shaw. Like for instance, assuring Shaw she had nothing to worry about because she would protect her was …..the absolute worse thing Root could have said.

Sameen walked and brooded over the fact that she was on the other side of the world and it was upside down. Books were being used as bribes instead of money or guns; they were on a mission of good, but weren’t taking the front door like the Red Cross did; and she had been hired supposedly to be a bodyguard, but the woman she was to protect, just assured her she would safeguard her.

* * *

When they were finally back at the camp, the men built a fire and offered the two women food. It seemed like hours since Shaw had eaten, and she grabbed the dish roughly and shoved food into her mouth at a quick pace. Men started to tease that she was trying to build up her little muscles and one of them actually reached out to touch her arm.

“That’s it!” Shaw said, throwing the plate down and jumping up on her feet. “You….let’s go….come on…..now….,” she shouted as her anger erupted and took over. She stood with her fists held up, ready to strike the first blow. There was dead silence as the men looked at the petite woman, bopping back and forth on her two feet, her fists in front of her. One of the men snickered, and that was all it took – the group burst out in laughter. They put their finger and thumb together to indicate how short the woman was.

And then it happened.

Charles, the leader, noticed that Sameen was making motions that indicated she knew what she was doing. He yelled and the hilarity stopped. Had his guest pulled the wool over his eyes about this woman? He pulled one of the men to stand up and instructed him to fight.

“Oh, no….,” Root said and implored her host to ignore the rantings of Sameen. “S’il vous plait,” she repeated as the man started to move around in a circle with Sameen. She saw the expression on Shaw’s face turn from anger to pure glee as she finally got the chance to prove just who they were dealing with.

“We will see how weak she is,” Charles said to Root and for the first time, knots formed in her stomach.

Root still didn’t know what dead lifting a hundred and forty-five pounds meant, but she was pretty sure it was an indication that Sameen was as fit as a bull. She turned to see the shorter woman as she laid the first punch. The man stumbled backwards as his comrades derided him. Samantha was about to stand up and yell for them to stop when she realized how magnificent Shaw looked. She had ripped off her shirt and was standing there in a t-shirt, her toned arms looking like steel rods. Instead of protesting, Root forgot to say anything; mesmerized by the sight of Shaw bobbing and weaving and making contact again. This time the man fell to the ground.

“GO SAMEEN!” Root heard herself yell, as she jumped up and clasped her hands. She had never seen anything like it.

Neither had Charles and his interest in the dark haired beauty was renewed.

Except this time, he wasn’t going to ask.


	10. Salt in the Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who are reading and posting comments. Greatly appreciate them and your interest.

Sameen had been in enough altercations to know when she was one final blow away from knocking out her opponent. She would especially enjoy this guy falling down because he had been the most animated in mocking her. “You think I’m not strong enough now?” she asked as she easily moved out of the way of his punch.

The problem for Sameen was that she wasn’t just fighting a guy in a jungle who had gone along with his buddies in making fun of the petite woman. Sameen was fighting every person who had ever done her wrong. Anger pushed down and stored up for years fueled those fists that landed blow after blow.

She appeared invincible.

Root was so caught up in watching Sameen, that she didn’t realize the bigger picture until she saw the expression on the leader’s face. She had sold him on the idea that Sameen wasn’t worth bartering for because of her frailty. That theory had just been blown to bits. She watched him as he watched Shaw demonstrate her prowess and there was no mistaking his intent. Root watched as her bodyguard moved with utter grace. There would be no way to break the woman’s focus now – and pleading with her to take a fall would fall on deaf ears. Root knew what she had to do – and even uttered – “I’m so sorry sweetie,” before calling out -

“October 2, 1988 – you took a road trip with your father to watch the Houston Oilers play the Philadelphia Eagles. He bought you a sweatshirt….”

It took only milliseconds for those words to reverberate through the air to Shaw’s ears – but, the meaning hit her harder than any blow her opponent had landed. And it had the effect Root was looking for. Sameen stopped moving, snapped her head around to look at where that information was coming from - as her opponent took advantage of her distraction and hit her in her temple.

It knocked her out cold.

There was an uproar of victory as the men gathered up their injured comrade and lifted his listless body onto their shoulders in a victory march. Charles looked at the lifeless body of the woman, who seconds before, appeared unbeatable. She was no use to him like this. He stepped over her body to join his men in the only victory they had in months.

Samantha raced to her bodyguard’s side and put her arm under her neck. “Oh, Sameen, I am so sorry,” she whispered to the unconscious woman. Unfortunately for Root, Shaw’s brain was logging that information for later.

Charles kept his end of the agreement and showed Root to her makeshift tent where one of his men dropped Shaw on a cot. Then they left to join the celebration that would last way into the night.

Root got a cold cloth and placed it on the comatose woman’s forehead. She took another rag, dipped in in water, and started to wipe the sweat and grime off of Sameen’s neck and arms. She was gentle in her ministrations because she knew Shaw was going to awake furious. Root also knew that the first thing Sameen would want to do was exact her revenge on her for making her lose. Unfortunately, there simply wasn’t time for that.

Root rubbed the cool cloth across Sameen’s face and then slowly ran her finger across the place where she had been hit. Thankfully, the man was literally on his last legs when he hit her. There was no bruising yet, and there was little swelling. Root draped her fingers across Shaw’s brow as if trying to figure out what made the woman tick. She knew she had only scratched the surface when she did some preliminary research on Shaw.

Tucked away in a personnel file in the hospital where Shaw had worked as a resident, was that tidbit about the football game her father took her to. It was one of the few personal history entries in her file and it was only there because she mentioned that she kept having a dream about it. Someone logged it in because her boss was doing everything he could to save her job. He knew she was a brilliant doctor with expert technical skills, but her bedside manner was nonexistent. She was let go soon after.

Root continued to gently stroke Shaw’s face, in spite of the fact that she knew, if Sameen awoke, being that close could cause her great harm. She issued yet another quiet apology as the petite woman slept. She pulled up a chair and put it next to Sameen’s bed, so she could keep watch over her until she too, finally fell asleep.

* * *

Root wasn’t at all surprised to find when she awoke a few hours later, that her hands and feet were bound. She looked up to find Shaw sitting in the chair opposite her, waiting. Black eyes stared at her, no expression on her face. The question of whether or not Shaw would remember what happened had been answered.

“I know that didn’t work out the way you planned it, but I honestly did it with the best of intentions,” Root said calmly and Sameen noticed, for a woman tied up, she didn’t seem the least bit nervous.

Sameen liked to think in things as black and white; you were the good guy or you were the bad guy – there was no in-between. You either deserved her help or you didn’t. Root was the gray that Sameen had no idea how to get her heard around.

“Here’s something your little witch hunt didn’t tell you, I bet,” Shaw said and leaned over closer to Samantha’s face. “I have an Axis II Personality Disorder. Do you know what that means?“ Root was about to answer and add that she felt the diagnosis was incorrect, but Shaw wasn’t going to let her speak. “I don’t play well with others. I have a short fuse. When people annoy me, I hurt them and I don’t feel ….,” and Shaw stopped to see if she should take the time to list all the feelings she didn’t have. “.....Anything.”

Root listened carefully because she was simply fascinated with this woman who was a conundrum. Before Harold took Samantha in, she could have been a card carrying member of that group. But Harold accepted her and her feelings – and as a result, she finally did, too. It was the simple act of another human being caring for her just the way she was, that changed Root.

She wanted that for Shaw.

“I’m leaving you here,” Shaw announced and got up to get her shirt on and take whatever she could that might help her.

“But… you can’t,” Root announced and her tone wasn’t pleading, it was simply stating the facts.  
“I don’t think your band of bandits out there will hurt you,” Shaw said, almost or at least sixty-five percent convinced of that. “I’m pretty sure if you started talking to them, they will personally deliver you to wherever you want to go – just to get rid of you.”

“But where are you going?” Root said - her concern obvious.

“Away….from …..you,” Shaw spat, and felt the slightest twinge of guilt when she saw the hurt on Root’s face. That was exactly why she had to leave. This woman had gotten under her skin and was making her crazy.

“Sameen, wait!” Root said before Shaw walked out. “Look, I need you to let me go. I need to leave now and get to that drop off location or the tablets will be confiscated and used for other things instead of their medical use. If you…let me go ….I won’t expect you to come with me….and I’ll pay you as soon as we get back to New York. Those people need those medical tablets,” Root explained.

Shaw stopped walking. She grimaced when she remembered that she had wanted to gag Root and forgot. Letting that woman talk was the worst thing she could have done. Shaw was all about doing the right thing – and this little speech made her realize others would suffer if she tried to exact her revenge on Root. Shaw also had a deep abiding sense of duty and she was, for all intents and purposes, this insane woman’s bodyguard.

Samantha wasn’t sure anything she said got through, but then she heard Shaw let out a long sigh and say – “Fine!” She walked back and slit open the ties that bound her hands and feet. “I’ll go with you,” Shaw said, but warned – “If you so much as talk to me, I will let you get your tablets, distribute them, take you back into the woods, tie you to a tree, pull up a chair, and wait for the animals to come.”

Shaw hoped that the threat would resonate and at least worry Root a little. But instead, a smile came over the woman’s face and she bit her lower lip; her eyes gleamed as if Shaw had just promised her a dream vacation.

“Okay,” Root said, her eyes smiling, as if she were looking forward to it.

Shaw shook her head in disbelief. Her head throbbed from the punch in her temple and she was certain that Root would be unable to keep her promise not to talk. She would need something to distract her.

That’s when Sameen decided to plan her revenge on the man who got her into this mess.


	11. Out of the Frying Pan and into the Fire

John was happy to be able to give Harold some positive news. His contacts had reached out to a local associate who knew someone whose relative worked at the airport. It was like telephone Intel, but John was desperate. The pilot told the person he had seventy two hours before his passengers were to return. Then John tracked the shipment of tablets and got their location. John didn’t understand why Root would land in one place, but have the shipment flown to another.  
Then again, John rarely understood anything Root did.

The trek to the drop off location was through thick, dense, foliage that was damp and hot. The effects showed on Sameen immediately, but Root pranced through the thicket as if she were walking along Fifth Avenue. “Aren’t these flowers just beautiful?” she asked and stopped to take a picture with her camera phone. Her agreement not to speak to Sameen lasted all of ten minutes and that was only because Shaw took off and walked far ahead until the brush slowed her pace. Samantha didn’t wait for an answer of course; she knew Shaw was still upset.

Root was beginning to view Shaw as a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. Root loved puzzles – excelling at the most difficult ones that Harold used to give her to keep her busy.

The more Root dealt with Shaw, the more fascinated she was with her. She presented such a tough exterior and exacted how she was planning Root’s demise more than once. Yet, she was still with her and Root attributed that to the fact that Shaw had a deep sense of duty.

And Shaw was a badass. What more would you want in a bodyguard?

Sameen had been in jungles like this before – somewhere in her distant past. She remembered what it felt like to have sweat running down your back and between your breasts. She had borrowed a machete from the camp before they left and was hacking her way through the undergrowth. Even with the incessant clicking of Root’s phone and the hatchet noise, she heard it. They weren’t alone.

Sameen turned to look at Root and pressed her finger to her lips and crouched down. Much to her surprise, Samantha did the same and stayed quiet. In spite of Root’s careful planning and diligent research, the area they were in was infested with stray thugs; people who would help you with poaching or illegal killing of wild animals. And a six foot one was standing there with two machetes and a bandolier – two belts of bullets, crisscross his chest.  
“Oh just great,” Shaw said, and noticed that her knife looked more like a carving blade compared to the two the man was wielding now. The tall man was having a slow day and he set his eyes on the tall woman. “Step aside there, Lurch, and I won’t hurt you,” Shaw issued her warning.

“American?” he asked and laughed. They were the biggest suckers. “I’ll tell you what,” he said in his native accent, “…..you can pass, but I want her.”

Root grabbed her phone to access her notes about the area and there was nothing in her study that warned her of this issue. “I should have checked illegal activities,” she chastised herself. “Offer him money,” she whispered to Sameen, thinking the woman was going to negotiate for them.

“Look,” Sameen said, leaning on the machete now, “I’m standing here trying to come up with a good reason why you can’t take her. A few hours ago,” she continued to say to the man who was only getting every other word,” ….I would have handed her over to you and paid you to take her.”

The man tried to understand what the shorter woman was trying to say. “Get out of my way.”

“I’m not letting you get to her,” Shaw said and upon hearing that, Root stopped talking.

“Real-ly?” Root said, very happy to hear it. “Oh, Sameen.”

“Yeah, don’t get all gooey on me,” Shaw shot back.

“I’m not asking,” he said and started walking right at them.

Shaw noticed that he was much taller than he first appeared and she was certain he was not going down with a fight. Probably a big, messy, bloody fight. She lifted the large weapon and swung it, and it hit his machete. It didn’t even make his arm move. He reached out, grabbed Sameen and threw her a couple of feet in the air. She landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of her.

“Sameen!” Root called out, worried about the smaller woman. Her focus was diverted momentarily as the brut came at her. Root reached for the gun in her backpack, but her research had assured her that she wouldn’t need it. He laughed and knocked the backpack out of her hands like it was paper. This was going to be easy, he thought. Root tried to fight him off – but she was distracted, trying to see where Sameen was. He had a hold on her that she was almost certain she’d never get out of.

Then something hit him hard in the back of the knee and he went down. He reached out to hold on to the taller woman, but something hit his head very …very hard and he went out like a light. And when he fell, there was Sameen standing behind his body with the thick branch that rendered him helpless.

“Let’s go, before Tiny Tim wakes up,” Shaw said and Root stood there in awe. She had actually been saved!

“Oh- my-God, you….you saved me!” Root said, surprised and thrilled. She took it as a definite sign that Sameen was only teasing when she threatened to kill her.

“Yeah,” Shaw acknowledged. “Well, I’m …your…. bodyguard,” she added awkwardly, and her voice was very low when she uttered the last word.

“Yes! Yes, you are!” Root affirmed as if she didn’t know it until Shaw said it. “Did you do that because you can dead lift a hundred and forty-five pounds?” Root said with exuberance.

Shaw looked at her deadpan. “I did it because I found a branch. Now, let’s go.” Shaw started to walk ahead again and Root took a moment to look back at the size of the man Shaw had just saved her from.

“That was amazing. Wait, are you okay? Because you looked like you were flying back there when he…,” Root said  
without taking a breath. She reached out and pushed Sameen’s hair away when she noticed blood oozing from her skull.  
Shaw rolled her eyes at the attention. “I’m fine,” she declared, pushing Root’s hand away.

* * *

For the next half hour, or what felt like days to Sameen, Root talked about the incident incessantly.

Finally, they reached the drop off point. Large cargo crates were being taken off another plane that had landed in a large opening, much like the one Sameen and Sam had parachuted into.

“There they are,” Root said. “We made it!”

Samantha ran ahead to the man who was checking the inventory and he eagerly shook her hand. Then, several men approached and Shaw watched as Root greeted them and seemed to be taking them through her inventory. These were the doctors from the hospital who would take Root’s machines to the far villages.

Shaw finally sat down, and for the first time felt the cut above her ear. She had barely gotten over the punch to her temple when the large man threw her to the ground.

She was Root’s bodyguard for less than forty-eight hours and already it was taking its toll.


	12. Hot Headed

Shaw sat down in the shade and watched as Samantha took charge of the operation. She gathered the doctors in a small group to demonstrate how the machine could help diagnose patients in the rural areas. It was so easy to operate, Root told them, that emissaries could travel to the villages and the results could be sent back to the hospitals, thereby focusing their attention on the people who needed their help. Sameen figured it had to be a pretty ingenious idea to be able to digitally diagnose people. She sat there, swatting mosquitoes away; drinking a cold water that someone brought her. The throbbing in her head had stopped, but was replaced by the pain of the cut above her ear. Sameen stopped, and called out Shaw’s name to join her in front of the group. She hesitated and Root waved her to come closer. The entire assembly was now looking at Shaw. “Couldn’t leave me alone,” Shaw grumbled under her breath as she walked over to Root. In what little she understood of French, Shaw realized Root was telling the group that if it hadn’t been for her, they never would have made it. The doctors immediately clapped and wanted to shake Shaw’s hand; both of which embarrassed Sameen terribly.

Root watched as Sameen grimaced with the acceptance of their gratitude. Then, the villagers brought the two women to a large building where they fed them. They enjoyed seeing the very petite woman eat so heartily and kept refilling her plate.  
“Mission accomplished, Sameen,” Root leaned over and said to her.

“Yeah, well, it sounds like you did these people a lot of good, so ….that’s …..good,” Sameen said. Sarcastic remarks flew off her lips, but sincere feelings rarely flowed easily.

* * *

The only thing Shaw wanted now was a hot bath and clean clothes. They were brought to the house that had offered them accommodations for the night. The man in charge apologized profusely, but explained that there was only one room, and one bed in that room. Shaw groaned to think her one chance for a good night’s sleep had just been snatched away. Root, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more delighted.

“It’ll be like a slumber party,” Root exclaimed, because she had never had one and always thought they sounded like fun.

“A slumber….what.?” Shaw said, shaking her head. She had experienced them in her youth – and hated them. She mumbled all the way into the bathroom, where she discarded her clothes and drew a bath. Stepping into the warm water, Sameen tried to forget the last two days of her life. Had she accepted the job, she wondered, or just a temporary assignment? Either way, she was going to seek her revenge on her good intentioned friend, Fusco, because Sameen knew no good deed went unpunished. No sooner had she drifted off and relaxed, then the bathroom door flew open and Root came in.

“Seriously?” Shaw said, sitting up in the bath and pulling her legs up. Did this woman have no boundaries?

“They said they’ll wash our clothes!” Root said with the enthusiasm of being in a first class hotel.

“And what am I supposed to wear…,” Shaw was going to inquire, but was interrupted.

“We’ll find something,” Root said, her tone exemplifying not having a care in the world. “Hey, I’ll wash your back, if you wash mine,” Root suggested and was surprised that those words came out of her mouth. Not more surprised than Shaw who was finding the woman’s impulsivity a little off putting.

Samantha was more intrigued as to why she said those words. There was something about Sameen that seemed to direct her thoughts. She had never met anyone like her. She left with Shaw’s clothes and a big smile on her face as she contemplated her thoughts.

Sameen returned to the quiet of her bath after the door was closed. Then her eyes opened wide and she looked around; there were no towels! “No!” she thought to herself. She wasn’t going to worry about that; she was going to enjoy this bath! She tried like hell to push thoughts of anything out of her mind, just so she could relax. No sooner had she managed to do that, than Root was back standing in the doorway – wearing a sad, pouty face. “What is it?” Shaw asked because she had a feeling Root would stay like that until she inquired.

“They can’t have our clothes back before morning,” Samantha said and walked in the room as if they were the living room.

“And what are we supposed to do in the mean time?” Shaw barked, losing what calmness she had managed.

Root looked down at the woman who had curled her legs up and was hugging them. “I’ll find you something,” she said, realizing that Shaw wasn’t as comfortable with all this as she apparently was.

Samantha set out to ask her hostess if there was something that they could borrow in the meantime. The woman said of course – and gave Root two traditions dresses – or kabba’s. “Oh, thank you,” Root said, graciously accepting the outfits. “She’ll love this.”

Obviously, Root didn’t quite know Sameen’s taste in clothing yet.

The woman gave up on enjoying her bath any longer and improvised as best her military training had prepared her for when there were no towels. Root returned to find the bathroom door locked this time, and when she knocked, Sameen stuck her arm through and asked for the clothing. “What am I supposed to do with this?” she asked, unfamiliar with the free flowing, seamless dress.

“Wrap it around you, over your shoulder. I could show you,” Samantha offered, but Sameen told her she’d figure it out. And figure it out she did, emerging moments later with the colorful clothe draped over one shoulder and wrapped around her waist.

“Wow!” Root said when she saw her bodyguard. “You look great in that.”

Sameen gave her usual scowl at the compliment, never knowing how to respond appropriately. “Try not to get into trouble because I doubt I can run in this,” Shaw said.

Samantha went into the bathroom, two towels and her own kabba in hand. She wondered what Sameen had used to dry herself off, until she noticed the curtain on the window was very damp. “She’s resourceful, I’ll give her that,” Root said of her roommate.  
Sameen thought it might have been the lack of alcohol in her system that was making her feel so weird. Then again, she figured, there was nothing about this trip that made her feel normal. At least, tomorrow morning, they’d be heading back to New York.  
By the time Root emerged from the bathroom, she found Shaw asleep on the bed, wrapped up in the dress. She had been talking to her the whole time she was in the other room, and understood now why she had not answered.

Root pulled the light sheet over the smaller woman, pulled up the lounge chair next to the bed and fell asleep. She made sure to be awake early so she could gather their clothes and give Sameen some privacy to get ready. Instead, Shaw hurried to get dress and ran out of the room, still putting her boot on her left foot, as she hurried to make sure Root wasn’t in trouble.

As if Samantha could read her very actions, she sat there beaming at the breakfast table when she saw Shaw rush in like that. “Ridiculous,” Shaw murmured and she meant that it seemed Root could see right through her. She hated that.

* * *

Back home, John saw the relief in Harold’s face when he confirmed that the plane had taken off hours before and would be landing later that night. He assured Harold he would be there to greet Root when she got off the plane.  
“She’s a grown woman, of course; she can do what she wants,” Harold reasoned. “But I wish she wouldn’t be so reckless in her undertakings.”

“I hope Bear is okay,” John let slip.

* * *

Bear was doing just fine, having made a new friend on the return trip. Root smiled when she saw what a fuss Bear made when he saw Shaw. At first, Sameen tried to act like he was being a nuisance, but when he sat next to her and whined she gave in and petted him. Root noticed as soon as she commented that Bear liked Sameen, the woman stopped petting him, as if she were embarrassed someone saw her gushing over the dog. “He’s as annoying as his owner,” she said, but didn’t mean it.

When the plane touched down, Sameen was feeling out of sorts. Not good at goodbyes, she simply got up and started to deplane. Root took the opportunity to thank Sameen again. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Okay, is that what this is going to be like?” Shaw asked, back on solid ground and feeling more herself. “I do my job and you spend hours thanking me? Cause that’s going to get old fast.”

Samantha took Sameen’s answer as an affirmation that she was indeed, taking the job. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Root said, her voice filled with hope.

“I’ll see you when I see you,” Shaw said and then grimaced at how lame that sounded. She walked down the steps to see John Reese waiting with a car.

“How did the interview go?” he asked, his tone not revealing how sarcastic that remark really was.

“I’m coming for you after I’m done with Fusco,” Shaw responded, walking past the car on the tarmac.

“Don’t you want a ride home?” John asked.

“I’m not letting you know where I live,” Shaw said, already sorry that so many people knew. She was going to have to move.

John watched as Shaw just kept walking. Then he heard Root calling Bear and he turned his head back.

“John!” Root called when she saw him there. “How did you know to be here?” The dog greeted John who was more than happy to slip him the treat he brought him.

“That’s what I get paid for,” John said and noticed Bear seemed preoccupied. “What is it, Bear?” he asked, but Root knew what the dog was looking at. He whined when he saw Sameen walking off in the distance.

“Interview go well?” John asked and noticed that Bear wasn’t the only one watching the woman walk away.

Root looked back at John when Sameen disappeared into the terminal. “I’d like to think so.”

* * *

A half hour later, John dropped Root and Bear off at her apartment and asked her to promise that she would call Harold. He would update Harold, too, but knew nothing would comfort the man like hearing Root’s voice.

Then, John took his phone and called Lionel who was out to dinner with his latest match from the online dating service. Fusco was two hours into the date, and things were looking really good. He couldn’t remember the last time he connected so well with someone. She had just invited him back for coffee and Lionel couldn’t pay the bill fast enough. Lee was staying at his grandmother’s, so there was no reason for the good detective to rush home. Then the phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. He wouldn’t have even taken the call, but he wanted to make sure his friend returned with John’s deranged employer.

He apologized and took the call. “What’s up, Captain America? Did your employer return with my friend?” Fusco asked in a very good mood.

“Yes, Lionel, “ John said, not amused by the cop’s constant creative name calling. “They landed safely, but…” John was going to explain, but Fusco cut him off.

“Well that’s good news there, Buddy. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” Lionel said and hung up the phone quickly. Outside, he held the car door open for his date, who slid into the passenger’s seat, as he rushed around to the driver’s side. He drove a few blocks and pulled up outside the woman’s house when he heard –

“I hate to break the evening up for you lovebirds, but Lionel and I have some unfinished business.”

The date screamed when she saw the woman in the backseat and Lionel put his hand on his gun. “Shaw! I coulda shot you!” he said, his heart racing in his chest.  
“Nah, I’ve seen you shoot,” Shaw said, sitting up and putting her arms around both headrests.

“Who ….are you?” the woman asked, scared and intimidated that such a beautiful woman would know Lionel.

“I’m the reason Lionel, here, can’t come in for coffee. Or whatever else you were going to offer him,” Shaw said sardonically.

The woman stared at Sameen, then at Lionel, who was stammering that the crazy woman was a friend, a coworker, someone he hardly knew. The woman jumped out of the car. She didn’t care if he was an NYPD Detective.

“Wait,” Lionel shouted, but the woman ran into her house and shut the door. “What the hell did you do that for?” he asked, frustrated.

“I came back to thank you for getting me involved with those crazy ass people,” Shaw said, more comfortable complaining than thinking about any of positive things that came out of her trip.

“Just because she tazed you?” he asked. “I saw the confetti paper on the floor.” He kept looking to see if his date would come back out.

“Does the entire world know where I live? Wait, you knew she did that to me and you weren’t worried?” Shaw barked, but started to feel a little lightheaded. She figured she hadn’t eaten in a couple of hours.

“Listen, Ms. Congeniality, I was worried. I called Reese and found out what happened. What did you want me to do, follow you across the Atlantic?” Lionel answered back.

Sameen sat there and thought about what Fusco was saying. She hated when people had a logical argument that thwarted her plans to pay them back. “She thinks I took the job,” she said, trying to rebuild her case. “She’s certifiable! She would be a huge pain in the ass to work for. She’s crazy!”

“And yet, I bet she’s home in her duplex apartment, while you’re out stalking your friend and breaking up his date,” Lionel pointed out.

There was a moment of silence while Shaw fought with herself to fix the situation. “Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes and getting out of the backseat. “I’ll go talk to her.”

At first, Fusco thought Sameen meant Root and he was very happy. But then she started to walk towards Lionel’s date’s house and he jumped out after her.

“No! You’ve done enough,” he whispered as neighborhood dogs started to bark.

“Do you want me to fix this or not?” Shaw asked, turning on her heels to face Fusco.

That’s when he saw it. Standing in the light of the houselights, he could see for the first time how flushed Shaw’s face was. “Hey, are you…?” he was asking when Sameen dropped and he caught her. “What the hell?” he asked as he scooped the petite woman up in his arms, silently praying that she didn’t come to and start fighting him. He put her into the passenger seat and felt her forehead.

The hotheaded woman was literally burning up.


	13. Half Baked Idea

The fever was high enough that it was making Shaw fall in and out of consciousness. She knew something was wrong, but she couldn’t tell what. So she reached over with all her strength and pulled her friend, Lionel, by the collar. “If I even think you’re headed to a hospital, I will shoot you!” the tough woman threatened. Then she fell back in the passenger’s seat, her breathing labored. Anybody else, the detective would have ignored and taken right to the nearest emergency room. Problem was, he knew Sameen, and if she woke up in a place she didn’t want to be in …again …..she’d lose it. He called John on speed dial and asked for his help.

“Why won’t she go to the hospital?” John had to ask.

“She’s ….too angry to be with humans,” Lionel answered. “Any other ideas?”

John had dropped Samantha off before and heard her explain how she had to get these tablets to a certain location so that they could help diagnose hard to reach patients in rural areas. “I might have one. I’ll meet you at Shaw’s apartment.”  
While Lionel kept encouraging Shaw to drink when she would wake up, John was calling Samantha and asking her if her machine would help someone who refused to go to the hospital. “Oh my God,” she said, “Is it Sameen?’ When she heard that it was, she told John to pick her up and they would go to the apartment together.

* * *

By the time they got there, Lionel was arriving as well. “She’s pretty much out of it,” he said as he opened the passenger door. He jerked his head to John to get Sameen. “She likes you,” Lionel lied when John’s expression read ‘why me’? John leaned in to unbuckle the woman who seemed unconscious, but as soon as she heard the noise, her hand shot out and she grabbed his arm like a vice. “If you think you’re carrying me anywhere, think again,” she said in a low voice.  
John turned to look at the cop who refused to make eye contact with him.

“Let me try,” Samantha said, tapping John on the shoulder. The tall man stood back, defeated. “Sameen?’ Sweetie, we’re going to bring you upstairs, okay?” she said in the most pleasant voice. John and Lionel pulled back, waiting for the grip of death to pull Root into the car. Instead, Sameen nodded her head and pulled herself….with Root’s help…..out of the vehicle. “That’s it, we’re almost there,” Root encouraged, practically carrying the shorter woman to the building’s entrance and into the elevator. She only had to touch Sameen’s skin to know she was burning up with a fever.

“Why didn’t you take her to the hospital?” she asked Lionel after putting Shaw on the bed and grabbing her machine.

“Oh, yeah, why didn’t I think of that?” Lionel said, annoyed.

Upon hearing the word, Shaw popped her head up, and loudly declared she was not going anywhere, before she fell back. “Okay, sweetie, we’ll take care of you.”

John admired his employer’s gallant efforts, but was still concerned that Shaw might need real medical attention. “So, suppose she needs medicine. Does your machine dispense that, too?” He was trying to get Samantha to see the bigger picture.

“No,” she answered him as if it were a legit question. She inserted the attachments to the machine and placed the other ends onto Sameen’s heart, wrist and one small tube into her mouth, which she immediately spit out. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Root said calmly and Shaw gave her the middle finger – a motion she rarely used to express her frustration. Samantha almost laughed at how feisty the woman was, even when going in and out of awareness. “This won’t hurt,” Root said as she put an adapter on Shaw’s finger that proceeded to prick the skin and test the blood.

Lionel and John watched, feeling helpless, but glad Root seemed confident in her machine’s ability to help Shaw.

“Dengue fever,” Root said when the program made the diagnosis. “Dammit, Shaw,” she said and pushed back the guilt that this was her fault. She started to scour Sameen’s skin for possible mosquito bites. Then she looked at the cut on the side of the smaller woman’s head and it was still oozing. “Tough is one thing, not getting help is another,” Root said out of total frustration and it was the first time John had ever her sound irritated. “Get her clothes off!” she said as she stood back up, but no one moved. She looked at Lionel and John whose expressions read – they’d rather walk into burning buildings. “Never mind,” she said, thinking it through. Knowing that in an emergency, you must tell the individuals what to do – she called them by name. “John, run a cool bath ….does she even have a bathroom?” she asked and John went to find it.

“I have to clean the ammo out,” he yelled back as he removed the boxes of ammo Shaw kept in the tub, only using her shower for cleansing purposes. Lionel threw his jacket off and rolled up his sleeves. “I better clean that…,” he said because Root was frantically removing Shaw’s clothes.

“Don’t you…..,” Shaw said, feeling that someone was undressing her. As far as Sameen was concerned, she was still back in Africa.

In the meantime, the two men were fighting each other to get out of each other’s way. “Who keeps ammo in a bathtub?” John asked as he lifted the last heavy box out.

“When was the last time this woman cleaned?” Lionel asked, afraid Shaw could catch something worse than what she already had. He hurried and wiped out the bathtub as John took all the boxes outside.

By the time Shaw was undressed, Lionel had the water filling up the tub. He got up and turned to see Root carrying Shaw in her arms. “Oh geezus!” he yelled, covering his eyes. It wasn’t that he was opposed to seeing the beautiful woman, but he already knew what would happen.

“Help me get her in there,” Root yelled and Lionel took Shaw’s legs while staring directly up at the ceiling.

“This is going to help?” he asked.

“It will bring down her fever,” Root said and told him to find her pajamas. Lionel walked out, still staring at the ceiling.

* * *

“Coco Puffs says she wants you to find pajamas,” he said to John when he got back outside.

“Look at this ammo,” John said at the various kinds and amounts. “How does a person? Why does she?”

“A person doesn’t; Shaw on the other hand, knows a guy. Who knows? I’m not supposed to see this or I have to report it.” Lionel said.

“Well, you’re seeing it,” John pointed out.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious. There’s a lot of things I’m seeing tonight that I shouldn’t,” the cop responded.

John stood up and looked around. The big apartment was one large room. There was a refrigerator on one side of it, a large bed near the window, no dresser. “So where do you think ….these clothes are?” John asked.

“My guess? Those black garbage bags over there,” Lionel said.

John walked over and opened one, afraid he would find last month’s garbage in it. But Lionel was right; Shaw’s clothes were inside it. He told himself he could do this and shoved his hand in, pulled out shorts and a t-shirt. “This should work,” he said, happy to be done.

* * *

Inside the bathroom, Shaw was feeling the cool sensation of the water which was great for her body, not so much her mind. It told her that if she was in water, she was probably drowning. She grabbed the sides of the tub and gasped for what she thought was her last breath. Root was sponging the cool water on her back when Shaw tried to move. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Root said, lying Sameen back in the tub. “You’re not alone, Sameen,” Root assured her.

The fever was playing havoc with Shaw; scrambling up memories and flashing them through her mind. “Are you alone?” the fireman asked who was first to arrive on the scene of the horrific accident. “Where is your mother?”

It was all too much for Sameen and she did something she rarely ever did – she stopped fighting. She thought she was allowing the water to overtake her, but she was really just giving into the sleep that her body needed in order to restore itself. Samantha felt Sameen’s body go limp as she drenched her in cool water. Then Root drained the tub, put a towel around the sick woman, and lifted her from the tub.

Sameen might have been able to dead lift a hundred and forty-five, but Root was managing just fine lifting a hundred and fifteen pounds – mostly out of sheer will.

“What do we need to do?” John asked as soon as Root came back into the room.

“I know a guy you can get us meds,” Lionel said; ready to break any law for his friend.

“I’m afraid the only thing she needs is rest, hydration and mild pain meds,” Root said. “But she needs to be watched.”

“Okay, yeah,” Lionel said. “You might want to …you know….think about restraining her arms.”

John looked at him as if to ask – really? “What? Oh you wait, Reese,” the cop warned. “When she wakes up and finds out we’ve all been here? Taking care of her? You’ll be looking for one of the tranquilizer guns they use on runaway bears that climb up trees. You know the guns I’m talking about?” he asked John.

“Yeah, I know,” John said, thinking the detective was exaggerating as usual.

“Well, imagine that bear getting shot, falling into the net, and before they can put him safely back in the cage? The bear wakes up!” This was exactly the way Lionel knew it would play out when Shaw woke up.  
He wasn’t too far off.

Root dressed Sameen after sending John for some food and asking Lionel to clear out the fridge to make room. “I’m getting her a cleaning lady for her birthday,” he said as he tried to decide what the origin was of the green slimy mass in her fridge.

“Do you think we should take her to my apartment?” Root asked when she was done dressing the patient. She pulled a cool sheet over Sameen and kept a cool cloth on her head.

“I think we’re better off is she comes to in familiar surroundings,” Lionel said accurately.

“I need to get this into her,” Root said of the pill that would help reduce the fever.

Lionel stood back from the fridge where he had discarded fifty percent of its content and removed the other fifty because ….who keeps guns in the refrigerator. If he ever wanted to report what he saw there, he’d be buried in paperwork for a month.  
“Can’t you just ….inject it somewhere?” Lionel suggested thinking it would be safer for them. He had experience with bringing Shaw home, usually after a bender, and having her wake up with him there. It was not a pretty scene.

“No, I’ve already done that and she didn’t like it,” Root said, without thinking and left Lionel standing there, motionless, while he tried to figure that one out.

“Sameen, sweetie? I need you to take this," Root said in the nicest voice Sameen had ever heard. Of course, she had no idea who the woman was that was helping her. Root took the bottle of water that Lionel found and gave her some sips of water, before placing the pill in Shaw’s mouth. “There you go,” Root said in a quiet voice as she gently laid Shaw back down.

“We’ll find your mother,” Sameen thought the woman said because the fever was spiking.

“She’s already gone,” Shaw uttered audibly.

Samantha looked over Lionel who shrugged his shoulders. He was the one person who knew the most about Sameen and Root was beginning to think even he knew very little.


	14. From Hell to Breakfast

John came back with everything on the list that Samantha had given him. He stocked the fridge with waters, Gatorade, chicken soup, and Jello. Then he opened up the takeout food that he got for the three of them. The two guys ate right out of the containers, but Samantha wasn’t hungry. John knew something was bothering his boss because it had been the longest period of time she hadn’t talked since he met her.

It was brewing inside her as she sat there, just watching Sameen toss and turn – the fever spiking in spite of the pain reliever. “It’s all my fault,” Root announced, getting up and walking over to the small table where the two men sat.

“You’re fault? How’s that?” Lionel asked. John already had a pretty good idea where Sam was going with this.

“I took her….captive….and flew her to the jungle in Cameroon where she obviously was bitten…,” Root relayed in detail.

“You what?” Fusco said, jumping up from the table. “I knew you took her hostage, but I figured she wanted to go because there’s no way she’d stay if she didn’t want to,” he elaborated. “But…..to Africa?”

“I had to go there for business,” Root explained and John cleared his throat. Lionel deserved the truth. “I …insisted on going. I needed to be there, John. If Sameen and I didn’t play decoy, who knows who would have shown up to meet that shipment.”

“Decoys?” Lionel said, and this story only confirmed he was right to call John’s boss all those weird names. She was nuts!

“Is that why you didn’t just fly in with the cargo?” John asked. Actually, he was asking Harold’s questions. Once John got information on their exact locations, Harold mapped their journey out. He wondered out loud to John why Samantha just didn’t land with the plane at the second location.

“I sent the cargo separately. I contacted the rebels ….,” Root started, but Lionel cut her off.

“She contacted the rebels?” he said, laughing as he said it, but not finding it funny at all. “Through their email right?”

“Well, yes, actually,” Root said, because in truth, that was how she contacted Charles. “We struck a bargain for passage through their area. This way, while I was there, the group wouldn’t be watching for any other planes delivering the tablets. There’s a real demand for electronics over there,” she said and Fusco just held his head.

“Did Shaw know this is what you were doing?” he asked.

“I’m sure she figured it out. She’s very bright,” Root said. “Oh, and I told her she didn’t have to come. Well, after I drugged her and put her on the plane. She thought it was the interview, but I explained her background as a doctor might prove helpful.”

“She’s a doctor?” Lionel asked because Shaw never mentioned it to him.

“Do you even know her?” Root snapped back at the detective.

John felt like he was breaking up the fight between two younger siblings. “Okay, you two; sit down,” he said and offered Fusco some more food as he took his seat again.

Now that Root was saying all these things out loud, she could see where she might have been a bit impulsive. “Everything was okay until the leader wanted to keep her,” Root said slowly, remembering how she tricked them into thinking Sameen wasn’t worth the barter. The more Root talked, the wider the cop’s eyes got. He just kept looking at John. “I convinced him she was a weakling, which of course, Sameen didn’t like. In the end, she proved me wrong and I had to distract her – which is when she got knocked out,” Root said.

“Oh, this just keeps getting better and better,” Fusco complained, throwing his napkin down.

“Did she get knocked out before or after you let her get eaten by dangerous mosquitoes,” he asked, having looked up dengue fever.

“I think she was bit after the knockout and after the thug threw her in the air,” she relayed and now even John stopped eating. “She subdued him beautifully,” Root said, still enamored with how protective Sameen had been.  
John cleared his throat because Samantha was lost in the memory of Shaw’s pure animal magnetism. “I think it happened when we met the group of hospital workers. I noticed there was a definite increase in insects because of the swampy conditions.”

John reached out and put his hand on the detective’s arm. He wanted them to focus on the patient and not fight. “How serious is this, Root?” he asked, and his voice was low and calm.

“There’s no cure besides rest and staying hydrated. Hopefully, there are no secondary symptoms. Which I don’t think there will be if she complies,” Root said.

“Oh, yeah, that should be a snap,” Lionel said of the most nonconforming person he knew.

“Should she be on an IV or anything?” John asked, keeping them focused on Shaw’s care.

“I have the equipment in that bag if we need it,” Root assured them and Lionel murmured – “of course you do”. John had to admit, the woman came prepared. “I know something that will cheer her up,” Root said, her voice back to its usual lilt. She set about to make it happen.

* * *

The dinner was consumed and John took out all the trash. Then the guys admired Sameen’s cache of weapons while Root tended to the patient. She kept reapplying cool cloths on her forehead to keep her comfortable.

“I’m not sure we should be here when Shaw wakes up,” Lionel whispered to John.

“You scared Lionel,” John asked, teasing his friend.

“Okay, tough guy. I can’t wait to see you face that five foot three Persian when she finds out Doctor Froot Loops ….all of us…..have been taking care of her. I once tried to check on her when she had the flu….,” Lionel said, shaking his head at what a scene she made.

“Got any scars?” John asked pointedly.

“Scars? No, but…,” the detective said in response.

“Well, then…..,” John said because in his book, it the incident didn’t earn you any wounds; it wasn’t tough.

“I think maybe you two were related in another life time,” the detective said to his friend.

“It’s just …..,” John said, looking over at the patient. “…maybe I get her.” John was referring to how guarded Shaw was and that it probably was the result of things long before her military training.

“Oh, so you spent ….what ….an hour with her …and now you get her?” Lionel said and his tone was lathered in jealousy. He was used to good looking women looking right past him to look at John, but this was his friend they were talking about.

John picked up on the protectiveness in the detective’s accusation and left it alone. “This is actually all your fault, Lionel, when you think about it,” John said calmly.

His words hit the intended target dead on. “My fault?” Fusco snapped defensively. “How do you figure?”

“Well,” John said decisively. “You asked me to give Shaw a shot at this job. Turns out, she got it. All because of you.”

This was one match that Lionel wasn’t sure he wanted the credit for making happen. “No good deed,” the detective mumbled to himself while John smiled for the first time that night.

* * *

Hours later, John woke up to see Root still sitting in the chair watching over Sameen….again. “Come on, you got to get some rest,” he insisted, urging the woman to lie down on the makeshift couch they made out of boxes and towels. Lionel was asleep on the floor, his head on his rolled up suit jacket.

“You’ll wake me as soon as she moves?” Root asked John, who promised he would. He was almost certain he wouldn’t have to tell her – and that Shaw would do that all herself. Between the jet lag and the exhaustion, Root gave in.

Much to John’s surprise, there was a light knock on the door. Even more surprising, it didn’t wake anyone. He opened it to see Harold standing there; Bear’s leash in one hand, a bag of fresh bagels in the other as he balanced a carry tray of four coffees.  
“Samantha said to bring Bear,” the older man said.

John grabbed the coffees and bag of bagels, as Bear pulled Harold inside when he saw Root. John wasn’t surprised that the first words out of Harold’s mouth when he saw the state of the apartment was – “Oh, dear.”

“Yeah, Shaw doesn’t seem to have the knack for decorating,” John whispered to his boss.

“Or curtains,” Harold said because there wasn’t one on the large wall of windows. “How is she doing?” he asked as he walked in.

“Well, she’s been asleep and Samantha said that was what she needs,” John whispered.

Root was waking up now from the pet’s wet kisses. “There you are, Bear,” she said as she got up and looked over at Sameen. She waved to her uncle and went right to the bed to check the patient’s temperature. “Did she wake up?” she asked John when she joined him and Harold at the other end of the room.

“Slept like a baby,” John reported.

She thanked Harold for the coffee and grabbed one, almost draining the cup for the caffeine intake. “Bagel?” Harold said, taking one out of the bag and encouraging her to eat because she needed her strength. He was also thinking back to how he saw Sameen eat and wondered if six bagels were enough for everyone.

“Did you bring my toothbrush?” Root asked and Harold opened another bag and produced the toiletries she asked him to get.

“Thanks,” John said, when Harold handed him one.

Root went into the bathroom to freshen up as Fusco woke up and finally remembered where he was. “She up?” he asked, looking over at what he was certain was going to be a firestorm of trouble.

“No,” John said and handed the detective a coffee and bagel. “You remember Harold,” he said because Lionel had met him on previous occasions when John needed his help.

“Always nice to see a member of the detective squad, “ Harold said, reaching in and handing Fusco a toothbrush.

“Party favors? Nice touch,” he said as he ate his bagel.

While john was reacquainting the two men, Bear was getting reacquainted with Sameen. His version of a good morning greeting included whining and nudging with his cold nose on her neck to make her move. “You let him wake her!” Root chastised the men when she reentered the room.

“Hey!” Lionel announced – “You wake her, you take her.”

Sameen woke from the best night’s sleep she had in a long time. She felt the cold nose and reached out to pet the dog to welcome him. “That’s a good, Bear,” she said in a raspy voice, thinking this was just a realistic dream she was having. “Where’s your crazy owner?” she asked, because she never expected anyone to answer.

“Here I am, Sweetie,” Root said in a sweet voice.

Sameen knew herself well enough to know, if she were dreaming about the dog, she would never include his owner in her dream. Without any bearing as to where she actually was, Sameen wondered if she hadn’t been drugged and kidnapped all over again.  
Her eyes flew open and she turned to look past Bear at Samantha. The expression on her face was enough to make the Belgian shepherd whine and retreat behind Root’s chair. “Don’t be such a baby,” Root said to the dog as she petted him to reassure him he was in no danger.

Shaw’s survival instinct was all she had left and she shot up in the bed and sat up. She wasn’t letting this woman subdue her again, without a fight. Root immediately read the panic in those dark eyes and put her hand on Sameen’s leg. “We’re in your apartment,” Root explained. “ You …were sick….and we brought you here.”

“We?” Shaw said, not having focused on anything past the chair where Root and Bear were.

Sameen heard Lionel clear his throat nervously and she looked over at the three uninvited guests.

“Harold,” John said in his deep, soft voice. “You didn’t happen to bring a tranquilizer gun, did you?”


	15. Buttering Up Shaw

“I assure you, Mr. Reese that was not on the list” Harold said and even he knew to whisper.

No one moved, no one breathed, and all eyes were on the woman who stared back at them hard. Root had just used the plural pronoun when telling Sameen what happened. “All of you?” she asked and finally came back to glaring at her captor.

“Well, Harold and Bear just arrived a little while ago,” Root answered truthfully. “How do you feel?” she asked and tried to put her hand on Sameen’s forehead, but she pulled back.

“Just fine,” she said even though she felt like a Mack truck hit her and dragged her the length of Manhattan. She rose slowly from the bed and fought like hell not to show any signs of feeling as badly as she did. She looked over at Lionel, who had the half-uneaten bagel hanging out of his mouth. “I hope you got one for me.”

Lionel was trying to chew the piece he had bitten off and assure his friend that there was plenty. Harold, knowing how important it was to this woman to eat, approached her slowly with the bag. “And there’s coffee, too,” Harold said and Sameen just stared at him. She took the bagel out of the bag. “Cream cheese?” she asked and he nodded his head.

Root was surprised that Sameen would want to eat, but she was pleased that she seemed to be able to move around. But just a few minutes of standing up was taking its toll and Root was right there to support her when she got tipsy and almost fell backwards.

This was so humiliating for Sameen.

“Which one of you did this to me?” she asked, sitting back down.

The room erupted in chatter as each one of them started talking. The noise was making her head hurt even worse. “The last thing I remember was trying to patch up your date,” Sameen said after putting her finger up to make them all stop.

“You were on a date?” John asked Lionel.

“Why? Is that so hard for you to believe?” the detective shot back. “I do have a social life.”

“No, it’s just…,” John was going to reply when Shaw looked at them.

“Could you ladies have this discussion somewhere else? Preferably a place that is not also my address,” Shaw demanded.

“I’m glad to see that your …..,” Harold started to say, but ‘…..impatience is back,’ wasn’t the right phrasing. “Witty repartee is back, Miss Shaw.” No, that wasn’t it either.

“Do I have you to thank for this three ring circus?” Sameen finally asked Root.

“You have dengue fever,” Root segued and explained that it wasn’t serious IF she rested and kept drinking.

“Oh, I’ll be drinking,” Shaw said, hoping to forget the last few hours ….days.

“I believe that Samantha has seen to it that you are already on the Employee Benefit Plan,” Harold said, thinking a normal person would be happy to hear that. But that just reminded Sameen that she actually worked for this circus now.

She looked down at her clothes, and realized these were not the ones she was in yesterday. Her head shot from Root to Lionel and then Reese as she tried to figure out how she got in them. “Did you….?” she was asking Root because she couldn’t imagine anyone else did.

“Yes,” Root assured the patient, who didn’t find it comforting.

“Okay, well I hate to be the bad hostess, but if you could all leave, I have to pack so I can find another apartment,” Shaw said and tried to stand up again, not making it very far.

“I thought you were packed,” John said, looking around at the bags.

“We should go,” Harold was saying, realizing that the woman needed her privacy.

Lionel walked over to tell Shaw to call him if she needed anything. “Did you guys touch my stuff?” she asked and Lionel knew she meant her collection of weapons.

“John did, a little,” Lionel said, paying his friend back.

“Not cool,” Shaw said, to both men, “Not cool!” Then turning to Root she added - “I’m good here, so you should go with them, get a ride or something,”

Of course, Samantha had other ideas. “I thought I’d stay and make you breakfast. I think clear liquids are really the best diet for today,” she said and – in response - Sameen tore a piece of bagel off with her teeth to show she disagreed.

“Lionel?” Shaw called and jerked her pounding head towards Root. “You forget something?

Lionel looked over at Root and knew he didn’t want to get caught between the two of them. He also had a sneaking suspicion that if they all left, Shaw would be ordering her Beatrice Lilly sandwich from Park’s Deli for breakfast.

In what John and Harold would both later describe as one of the bravest acts the man ever committed, Fusco walked back over to Shaw. “Look, I know she’s….,” and he hesitated because Root was sitting right there, “…..I think you might want her to stay,” he said and Shaw already had her mouth opened to protest, but he added, “….IF you let her stay today and are better, she’ll leave. If you have a relapse, she’ll be back for the week with her furry friend. Now, do you want that? Besides, you look like crap.”

“Thanks, Lionel,” Shaw said sarcastically. If only she could hit one of them, she’d feel better.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” the detective asked.

He made a good point. Sameen felt awful and all this talking was draining what little energy she had. She couldn’t fight them both. “Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at how sad the state of her world had become. Then she looked over at her Root, who had taken her bagel when she sat down, and was ….eating it. Shaw’s head shot up to look at Fusco – her expression clearing stating – ‘She has my food!’

Lionel reached over and gingerly pulled the bagel from Root’s hand and gave it back to Shaw, who proceeded to wipe if off in a very annoyed fashion before biting it again. “We’re not done here,” Shaw threatened all three men, waving her finger at each of them.

“Are you sure it’s safe to leave Root here?” John whispered to Fusco.

“No,” he answered truthfully.

“Oh, dear. Well, Bear is here with her,” Harold decided.

“Some guard dog,” John said as he looked back, seeing the dog hiding under Root’s chair. “Maybe I’ll check on them later,” he said and Lionel laughed, telling John he was a glutton for punishment.

* * *

The door slammed shut and Sameen winced at how the noise hurt her head. Her shoulders fell as she came to accept that she would not be alone today. “I have to go to…,” she started to say and Root was on her feet, taking her by the arm to the bathroom.  
Sameen had to stare at her before she realized she wanted some privacy. “I’ll be right outside the door,” Samantha assured her.

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Sameen retorted, wondering how life always managed to pay her back in spades. “Who the hell moved my ammo?” she yelled from inside, but Root ignored that question.

This was a no-win situation for Shaw, no matter how she looked at it. If she felt better, she’d have to convince her crazy employer that she was okay to leave. If she wasn’t okay, Root would be convinced that she needed her help. And if she really did, she’d have to eventually thank Root.

Shaw handled showing appreciation about the same as she did any other positive emotion – not very well – not very well at all.

Shaw washed her hands and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Lionel was right – she did look like hell. Then the nagging question came back to her – and she swung open the door to find Root waiting right there. “Why did they empty the bathtub?” she asked suspiciously.

“Oh, sweetie, your fever was very high last night. We….I….put you in cool water to bring it down,” Samantha explained, waiting to help the patient back to bed.

“How did you….?” Shaw was asking and then quickly decided she didn’t want to know.

She had heard enough for one day.

She leaned on Root’s arm to steady herself when she walked back to the bed. Samantha had already searched the large garbage bags last night to see where Sameen kept another set of sheets, but found none. She offered Shaw soup and Jello, but both were politely declined. She encouraged her to drink water, but when that was refused, Root reminded Sameen that her body needed to stay hydrated.

“I can stay all week if necessary,” Root finally said and Shaw grabbed the bottle of water from her hand and drank all of it, handing it back with a smirk on her face. Then Sameen lay back down and gave into the fever's toll on her body and fell into a deep sleep.

“Worked like a charm,” Root said to Bear.

She was beginning to understand how to talk to Shaw.

And just when Sameen was certain her day couldn’t get any worse.


	16. A Few Fries Short of a Happy Meal

One of the first things Harold learned about Root was just how bright she was. She was homeless, living in the streets of Manhattan at night, but spending her days at the New York Public Library. She lifted someone’s laptop from a Starbucks, wiped it clean and began hacking to pass the time. When she hacked into Harold’s state of the art security systems, he was impressed. And irked. He devoted weeks to tracking the hacker down and when he found her, he knew he better hire her. He was impressed how young she was, given her advanced skill sets. He offered her a place to stay and a job – but first she had to finish her education, which he would have paid for, but she got a full scholarship. Root agreed and finished her undergrad in two years. She convinced Harold that graduate school had nothing it could offer her and after seeing how brilliant she was, he had to agree. He helped her set up her own company where she developed programs others hadn’t dreamed of yet.

Harold’s intentions were never to become Root’s family, but it soon became apparent to him that Root needed something more than money and education. She needed an anchor; someone who could accept Samantha Groves for who she was – the way the ideal family can.

Perhaps that’s what he recognized in Sameen Shaw. She certainly came from a very different world, trained in medicine and the military. But Harold suspected that her background, too, spoke of an unfulfilled need. Then again, Harold decided, that was true of most people. He hoped that Sameen would find it, perhaps, working at BEAR.

* * *

The fever was abating, but not before pulling Sameen down into another showcase of her worst dreams. She murmured things that Root had no way of knowing the significance, but she understood how tortured Sameen looked. She kept replacing a cool cloth on her head and waited for the fever to break.

Root contemplated again – how she had never met anyone like Sameen. Independent, resilient, take no nonsense demeanor, and yet – she could sense vulnerability in her that she identified with. Not quite the same way, because Shaw had actual training in how to shut down her feelings.

Root had to teach herself.

* * *

There was a text message – the packages were being delivered. Samantha went to the door and let the delivery people in. Box after box was placed down quietly. Things she felt the apartment was severely lacking in like a second set of sheets; some pillows; and finally – a futon so she could lie down in case she needed to. Root had buying power, of that, there was no doubt.

She put things in place as Sameen slept quietly; allowing her body to do what it needed to do – heal. Shaw’s mind finally convinced every cell inside her that the faster it recuperated; the sooner things would be back to the way they were. By the time the sun was going down, the fever went with it. This time when Sameen awoke, she wasn’t at all startled to find Root and Bear sitting there, next to the bed.

“Did you even move from that chair?” Sameen wondered and her tone wasn’t sarcastic; she really wanted to know.

“Of course,” Root said, and the chilled bottle of water was right there, ready for Sameen to sip. “I would really love it if you would try to have some soup?” the caretaker asked, her voice filled with hope.

Sameen was hungry and she didn’t want to trade barbs with her boss as soon as she got up so she agreed. “Sure,” she uttered and Root leapt from the chair to heat it up. “Is she always like this?” the patient asked the dog, who upon hearing how calm her voice was, jumped up in Shaw’s bed and snuggled next to her, his head in her lap. “Oh, come on,” Sameen complained, but kept stroking his head which, to the dog, meant she wanted him to stay right where he was. “You’re a lot like her; won’t take no for an answer.” Bear whined and nuzzled his head under her hand to keep petting him.

Root came back with the heated soup in a cup and called Bear to sit next to her. “There, now you can enjoy this in peace,” she said as she sat in the chair across from Sameen.

“Thanks,” the patient said and gulped the soup. It lacked the calories she usual had in her meals, but it did taste good. Then Shaw looked out the window and realized the entire day had passed by while she slept. “I guess you were right,” she said, and immediately put the cup back to her lips so she didn’t have to elaborate.

“Well, you had a high fever, so I figured you needed your rest. “Plus,” Root added, smiling broadly, “I did sort of drag you half way across the globe.”

Sameen noticed that Root actually sounded guilty. “Hey, it’s okay,” Shaw said. “Not every day I get to jump out of a plane, spar with a guerrilla fighter who loves romance novels, demonstrate my bodyguard skills in the jungle and make it back in time to recuperate in my own bed.”

Samantha smiled, embarrassed, but grateful Sameen hadn’t mentioned being tazed, drugged and kidnapped. And she thought it might be the first time she actually saw Shaw smile and mean it.

“Water?” Root offered and Shaw knew better than to refuse. She put the soup down and took the water, looking around her apartment. “Is…that…a couch?” she asked, stopping mid sip.

“Futon actually,” Root said proudly. “I thought for …. for when you have company and need a place to sit.”

“I don’t have company,” Shaw said and it was the truth. “Unless you count Lionel following me home.”

Now Root had no clue about Sameen’s social life and although she seriously doubted the detective and she were ever involved, she also knew a person has needs. “Oh,” she said and couldn’t help but be disappointed.

“And he never stays,” Shaw added and watched Sameen’s face light up again.

“Oh, good,” Root slipped. “I mean, if you ever do have company, now there’ll be a place ….to sit.”

Shaw watched as Root seemed to get flustered, as if she were thinking about something other than Shaw’s guests. “There are curtain on my windows,” Shaw now said in total amazement. “Did you…?” but she only had to look at her boss, who shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “You’re dangerous when you’re bored,” Shaw surmised out loud.

“Yeah, well…..,” Root said and was glad the additions hadn’t set Shaw off. It wasn’t like she asked her permission. “Are you still hungry?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Starving,” Shaw admitted.

“I could go get you something light?” Root suggested.

“Falafel,” Sameen decided, but Root shook her head.

“Maybe wait until tomorrow before you introduce greasy foods back into your diet.” she suggested.

“Oh, then what is there?” Shaw asked, unable to think of a food group that wasn’t saturated in fat.

“How about I surprise you?” Root said, grabbing her pocketbook.

“Like you haven’t done that continuously since we met,” Shaw retorted, but smiled.

“Come on, Bear,” his owner said and the canine immediately went to her. “We’ll be back soon.”

Shaw watched them leave and slowly got up to go to the bathroom. That’s when she noticed the new towels, the new shower curtain, the soap dish, and toothbrush holder. “She is going to be a huge pain in the ass,” she concluded.

Sameen was really beginning to feel like herself and laughed to think she was willing herself back to health, just so her caretaker would take off. She thought about how a week ago, her life had none of this craziness in it. She walked back into the large room and wondered what Root was going to get for dinner. Then Shaw remembered, her neighborhood offered very little choice in the way of cuisine. Given the crime rate in this little piece of Manhattan, few businesses were even open at this hour. The only place that did stay open was robbed almost weekly. You had to be crazy to walk in there this time of night unless you were armed.

Shaw ran to get her phone, but only then realized, she didn’t have her boss’ information. She could call Reese, but he’d charge down there and Shaw had no room for the white horse he’d bring with him. She put on some pants, and shoved her feet into her boots. She would have grabbed a weapon, but the boys had seen to moving all her weapons and Root had moved everything else.  
“She’s got that dog with her,” she repeated as she took the stairs to the street.

* * *

Shaw’s instincts were right. As Samantha cased the area for possible food choices, everything was closed and she wound up at the bodega. She walked in there like she was into Bertucci’s on the upper West Side. Samantha had no sooner asked the clerk where the angel hair pasta was, when the two guys who noticed her coming out of Shaw’s building, walked into the store.

“This isn’t even close to angel hair,” Root was saying as she looked at the box of elbow macaroni. Bear growled and alerted her to the fact that they had company.

“Lady, I’ll shoot the dog first,” warned one of the armed robbers and held his gun on the dog.

“Bear, stay,” Root said, because the other guy had his gun pointed at her. Even if the dog attacked, they both could get hurt in the process.

“Hand over your cell phone, your pocketbook and any jewelry,” one instructed, as he nervously held the gun.

Instead of complying, the woman stood still and smiled.

“You nuts?” one of them said, waving the gun. “Why are you smiling at us?”

“Oh, I’m not smiling at you,” Root said, her voice sultry, her expression almost giddy. ‘God, this woman is amazing,’ she thought, as she stared at Shaw.


	17. Getting Grilled

It wasn’t just the sudden appearance of her bodyguard that had Root excited; it was the way Shaw was standing there, eating an ice cream that she grabbed from the freezer when she walked in. She stood there – calmly – as if she didn’t realize there were two men holding two guns.

“Who the hell are you?” one of the men asked, as he turned to see the five-foot three woman standing there.

“Who wants to know?” Sameen asked as steadily as could be.

“You just walked into trouble, lady,” he said and waved the gun at her to move over by Root.

“Actually, that happened a few days ago,” Shaw said nonchalantly. Instead of doing as they said, she kept talking…..and eating. “Here’s the thing,” Sameen continued and the two men looked at each other. “I met that woman a few days ago, and she’s been nothing but ….,” and she stopped because she didn’t want to hurt Root’s feelings, “…trouble. But I’m her new bodyguard, and I don’t want to screw it up on the first day….back.”

The longer Shaw talked without an ounce of concern in her voice, the more smitten Root got. She wasn’t just being rescued; she was being rescued in style. An audible sigh escaped her lips.

“You?” one of them laughed when he looked at how petite she was. “She’s got that dog, whaddaz she need you for.” The two men had a good laugh over that.

Sameen finished her ice cream and when she walked between the two men, she slipped the stick into one their shirt pockets. He looked down at her. “I don’t like to litter,” she winked, “ …..which is why I’m going to give you two sorry asses the chance to leave before there’s a cleanup in aisle one.”

She continued to walk closer to Root. “They didn’t have angel hair pasta,” was the first thing she said to Sameen.

“Well, that could be the second crime committed here,” Shaw responded.

If it weren’t for the fact that Sameen was drop-dead hot, the robbers would have pushed her out of their way. But she was armed with assets that were totally distracting. Then, they remembered what they came for. “Hey!” one of the perps finally said, feeling like, for armed men, they were being ignored. “I don’t care who you are, give us the wallet, your phone, and jewelry.”

“My bodyguard is here. I don’t have to,” Root said, perhaps a little prematurely. She was so impressed with Shaw’s swagger, she forgot about the guns.

“Uhm, Root?” Shaw said, in a low voice. “I am not getting shot here, okay?” It was one thing to be confident, but another to forget who had the fire power.

“Oh, I don’t think they’d……,” Root said, who seemed to think the men were too nervous to carry through on their threats. That was the worst kind of perp and Shaw knew it. This was already taking too long for one of the guys, and Shaw heard him pull back the trigger.

“Let her go, and we can …,” Shaw interrupted her boss before she got them both shot. Unfortunately, these guys weren’t very good at negotiating. Shaw saw the gun being aimed and knew she had to act. She pushed his arm up and the gun went off into the ceiling. She disarmed him, wrapped his arm around, and shielded herself from the second shooter.

“Shoot her!” he cried out in pain to his friend. His friend stood there shaking, not trusting he could hit the small target.

“Don’t make me shoot you,” Shaw said as she held the first man’s gun on him.

“She’ll do it,” Root said calmly as she and Bear watched. The dog whined his concern, but Samantha whispered that Sameen had it all under control. Shaw shook her head that even in threatening situations; the woman could not stop talking.

By this time, the store own had already pressed the silent alarm and the police were on their way. The flashing red and blue lights from outside told the second perp that he had little choice now and he put his gun down and his hands up as the officers rushed in.

* * *

“Well, you’re looking a lot better than the last time I saw you,” Fusco said as the cops handcuffed the would-be assailants, both of them complaining that the short woman was crazy.

“Detective Fusco!” Root said like they were meeting at a dinner, instead of a crime scene.

“Don’t you work homicide?” Sameen asked, surprised to see him there.

“Whenever I hear a call about an irate, short, Persian woman – anywhere in Manhattan, I show up so it’s not a homicide,” Fusco explained.

One of the things he found so fascinating about Sameen was her ability to be so easily offended. “Irate?” she exclaimed as the police officer was asking Root her version of what happened.

Fusco could hear the woman go on and on about how Sameen had been sick, woke up hungry and how she wanted to get her something light for dinner. She came into the store, she told him, and asked where the angel hair pasta was, but they didn’t have any – only macaroni, which she stated for the record, was not even close to angel hair.

“How about the part where the guns got involved?” Fusco suggested and looked at his friend. “Does she know the short version of anything?”

“Who called me short? Was it the 911 Operator?” Shaw grilled him, wanting a name.

“Maybe you want to give this nice policewoman your statement, Ms. Shaw,” Fusco said, desperately trying to help out his fellow officers.

“And then….when Sameen came in, she just stood there telling them that she would shoot them if they didn’t cooperate,” Root was relaying to the police officer, but her eyes never left the woman she was speaking about.

“So, are you saying Ms. Shaw threatened them?” the officer asked for clarification.

“No! She just told them who was boss,” Samantha explained and Fusco could tell by the cop’s expression that he was thinking they should check out Shaw as a suspect.

“I can vouch for her, Officer,” Fusco said, coming to the rescue. “She’s Ms. Groves' bodyguard. She’s not armed.” Fusco immediately turned to look at his friend for confirmation on that statement. “Of course I’m not,” Shaw complained and was about to remind Fusco that he moved all her things, but he signaled her to stop talking.

Fusco watched as the cops took the two men outside and noticed the ice cream stick in one of their pockets. “Did you put that there?” he questioned his friend.

“What? I was hungry. Oh, pay the man, would you, Lionel? “ Shaw asked.

“Isn’t she just the best?” Root cooed, as Shaw bent down to pet the woman’s other protector.

“Oh, she’s something special, that’s for sure,” Lionel said, digging in his pocket for money.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The cops said they could go and Shaw suggested Lionel might want to give Root a ride home. “Contrary to your understanding about what my job is,” he said to her, “I am not your personal valet service. Try calling one of those yellow cars, or have they not lifted the ban on you?” One too many arguments with cabbies about the best way to get to a destination earned Shaw a unilateral ban from using them from the Taxi Commission. Sometimes she got lucky and they didn’t recognize her.

“Hey!” she said, changing the subject, “…I still owe you for letting Fog Voice touch my stuff,” she yelled, referring to John looking at her weapons. Her poor phrasing caused the cops to turn around and all stare at her. “Not….that’s not….no…..are we done here?” she asked Fusco, who couldn’t stop laughing.

“Yeah, she’s all yours now,” the detective said as he left Sameen standing with Root. Even Sameen’s dead stare didn’t change Fusco’s mind. As far as he was concerned, they deserved each other.

“I can’t leave before making you dinner,” Root said, and Shaw knew she couldn’t talk her out of it.

* * *

The women and Bear returned to Shaw’s apartment where Sameen noticed, Root didn’t even have the box of pasta from the store. “I’ll just order us something,” Root said, but Sameen explained not may places wanted to deliver to the area. “I know a place that does.”

Within twenty minutes, there was a knock at the door. Shaw went to grab her Nano, but nothing was where it was since the Van Trapp family of crazy visited her. Three men, in white attire, walked in carrying various boxes. The last one, carried in a square table, which he was instructed to set up in the middle of the large room. Then the table was adorned in a white table cloth with two place settings and glassware.

“What is ….?” Shaw tried to ask, but Samantha was busy giving instructions about where to set the food up and what to put in the refrigerator.

“Ms. Groves?” one of the men called when he was trying to put tin covered containers of food away in the fridge.

“Oh, that goes ….oh, let me move that,” she said, taking the Nano out and giving it back to Shaw.

Sameen watched as the men set out the dishes of food and filled the plates. As soon as the lids were off, the aroma hit Sameen. It was her favorite dish of grilled shish kabob that her mother used to make. She looked down to see it next to Sabzi Polo, or herb rice with beans. Root thanked the men and they left.

“What is this?” Shaw asked, unfamiliar with people going out of their way for her. There were no free lunches in Sameen’s world, let alone dinners.

“Can’t a girl say thank you for saving her?” Samantha said coyly, and sat down and put the linen napkin in her lap. She motioned for Shaw to do the same.

“You can’t thank me every time I do my job. That’s not how this works,” Sameen explained, trying to sound stern.

“Well, you have to eat if you’re going to do your job so well. And besides, I saw the look on your face when I said I’d make pasta,” Root explained.

Shaw rolled her eyes and shook her head, but sat down nonetheless. One mouthful and she knew just how good the food was. “Where did you order this from?” she said, as she savored the tender meat.

“My personal chef,” Root answered.

“Of course,” Sameen said because this woman always managed to get what she wanted.

Root enjoyed seeing how much her bodyguard enjoyed the food and took it as a good sign that the woman could eat so much after the fever.  
Then the meal was over, and Root realized – under normal circumstances, this would be when she went home.

That’s not what Root had planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks for the remarks and kudos. These are such wonderful characters, that I'm thrilled to have you reading my take on them. Cheers.


	18. Soup to Nuts

Root was a woman who relied on her feelings to guide her. And her feelings were pointing in the direction of her new bodyguard. But as aware as she was, she was certain that Sameen was a woman who guarded her feelings like Fort Knox. But what were those feelings? Root had experience in business of jumping the gun and losing important deals. She took it as part of the process. She wasn’t going to chance that here. If she did get one shot with Sameen, she knew it had to be well played.

Of course, that didn’t mean she couldn’t flirt like hell while she was working on it.

“Well, I insist on doing the dishes,” Root said and Shaw looked at her like – okay – because Sameen never brought anything in that needed washing after she was done eating. Samantha knew this, so there was a sponge and dishwashing liquid brought along with the food.

“Sorry, I don’t think this place came with a dishwasher,” Sameen said, carrying the plates to the sink.

“I don’t mind,” Root said and truly meant it. She washed each dish slowly, methodically, taking as long as she could.

“I hope you never lose your day job,” Shaw kidded, noticing how slowly her boss was at this. She saw what she assumed was a dishtowel, and started to dry the dishes off.

“We make a good team,” Root laughed as she handed each item to Sameen.

Even working at a snail’s pace, the dishes were finally all done. Sameen wasn’t used to having guests over, but she figured this was the time where you walked them to the door and thanked them for coming – again. “Hey, thanks…..you know,” she started as she looked around. “For dinner, oh, and the curtains and the toothbrush holder, yeah.” Shaw felt like the list was getting longer and longer. She hadn’t even mentioned the tins of prepared food that she saw Root put into the refrigerator. “Oh, and for helping me through…..that ….uhm, fever thing.”

The more Root watched Sameen talk; those plump lips moving, dark eyes darting back and forth, the way she paused as she listed everything; the more she wanted to lean in and kiss her.  
That – she decided - would be too fast and so she made herself stop staring and she responded – “My pleasure.” There was a long pause between those words - as ideas of what Root’s pleasure would actually be at that moment, flashed through her mind.  
Shaw simply took it as another example of how weird her new boss was.

“Okay, so do you have a driver with that chef?” Sameen asked because there were very few cabs to be had at that hour.

“Oh,” Root said, thinking fast. “I guess…. I can get a cab.”

“Not around here,” Shaw pointed out.

“Well, if you point me to the nearest subway, Bear and I will just…,” Root was saying, but Shaw didn’t think it was a good idea for them to be on the subway at this hour.

“I don’t have a car ….,” Sameen said, wondering what the choices were for getting her boss home.

“Well,” Root said, as if she just thought of it, “….I could stay…..here, if you didn’t mind.” She was running her finger along the length of the sink as she spoke.

Shaw hadn’t thought of that as an option. “You want to….here?” she asked looking around as if to ask – _have you seen the conditions under which I live?_

‘You have no idea,’ - Is what Samantha’s inner voice said, but she told Sameen - “Well, I mean ….this way, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting home; I’d feel safe, you know, after tonight’s ordeal, and all.”

Shaw had the most quizzical expression on her face as she thought about what her boss was saying. Ordeal? Root seemed more upset that they tried to pass off elbow macaroni as angel hair pasta than she did the fact that she was almost robbed. Sameen thought about how helpful the woman had been these past two days. Of course, on the other hand, it Root's her fault that she was so sick. “Okay, “ Shaw said, “…..you can…..take the bed.”

“No, I will sleep on the futon,” Root said and added what a great idea it had been to get it.

“Yeah, okay,” Shaw said, hoping Root didn’t think this was an open invitation to visit. Shaw liked her privacy. And her solitude. Her style of living was uncomplicated and she wanted to keep it that way.

“Great!” Root said and went to one of her bags and brought out pajamas.

“Where did….?” Sameen was going to ask, but again, decided she didn’t want to know.

“I’ll just go get ready,” Root said and went into the bathroom to do so.

Sameen just kept looking around the room at all the things that were there because of Root. “She has more things here than I do,” she said to the dog. “Don’t take that personally,” she said, apologetically when he whined that he found that offensive.

Sameen was not surprised that the whole time Root was in the shower, she was either singing or shouting out questions or thoughts to Shaw while the water was on. She finally heard the faucet squeak and the water was off. The door flew open as Root got dressed out of sight. Minutes later, she came out in pink matching pajama shorts and top…..with slippers.

“Isn’t John going to be wondering where you are? I mean, does he keep tabs on your twenty-four seven, because he looks like he doesn’t have to sleep,” Sameen commented, still uncertain of what her job was going to entail.

“I should text them,” Root said, because she didn’t want them to worry. She sent a text to Harold that she was fine, in spite of the news reports and then she texted John, who responded that he would want to go over the incident with Sameen in the morning. She didn’t share that with Shaw.

Sameen went inside and got ready for bed. She came out in the same t-shirt and shorts she had been wearing. “Okay then, good night,” she said to her guest who was already tucked in. “Did you just change….?” Sameen said when she noticed her bed was now adorned in brand new violet flowered sheets.

“They were out of plain ones,” Root apologized. She had really figured Shaw for the simple blue and white design, but this was all they had. "The others ....you were sick, so...."

If it weren’t for the fact that Shaw thought her boss was trying to be helpful, she would have refused all these changes. But for now, she’d let it go. She would just take them off tomorrow and give them away with the curtains, the new dishes, the futon, and the see-through shower curtain.

Shaw appreciated it, but she had to get her life back in order. Order – or the way Sameen saw it – was key to her. Things were black or white; right or wrong; whole milk or go home. It was how she saw the world and it was really how she felt she operated best. She already knew Root saw the world through crazy making glasses. But Sameen saw problems as opportunities for solutions. And if at first she didn’t succeed; she slammed that solution into place until it fit.

“I’ll give it a week,” she promised herself as she dozed off that night. “I’ll give it a week.”  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Root woke up the next morning very early with the intention of making breakfast and having it ready. But even Bear knew that was overdoing it and gave his owner a look when she quietly asked if he thought it was a good idea. “Too much?” she whispered and the dog’s eyebrows twitched his answer. “Okay, okay, I get it,” Root said back softly.

Then she gathered her belongings, including her trusted advisor, and left a note for Shaw. She went downstairs and hailed a cab and went home to get dressed for the day ahead. Technically, it was Sameen’s first day and she wanted it to be perfect.

* * *

Shaw never needed an alarm clock before; she let the sun hitting her eyes wake her up. Of course, given the location of her apartment, that was somewhere around 9 o’clock. “Oh crap!” she said when she realized what time it was. She jumped up out of bed, certain her boss would be sitting at the table, sipping the perfectly brewed cup of coffee; a waiter standing there with pancakes and sausage. “Oh,” Shaw uttered when she realized she was alone; only a note on the table which read – “See you when I see you.”  
And a smiley face which made Sameen issue her first eye roll of the day.

Sameen rushed to get dressed, opting for black pants and, looking down into her bag of black or gray shirts, grabbed one and put it on. Then she pulled her hair back in a ponytail, took her wallet and headed uptown to BEAR.

* * *

John had assembled his team together that morning so they could all meet the newest member. They worked different shifts, given than the company had twenty-four hour coverage, and getting them all together was not an easy task.

“So, where’s the new superstar, John?” one of them asked when they all gathered to meet Shaw, but she was a no-show.

“She apparently didn’t get the memo about what time we start,” John said, almost, but not quite smiling.

“Great,” another commented because the entire group ran on orderliness.

John excused himself and walked to his boss’ office and was about to knock, when he heard what he thought was Root in a conversation.

“I see your point,” he heard her say, and so he waited, thinking she was on the phone. “...but playing hard to get isn’t a good strategy if the other party isn’t interested. You have to concede that,” she said.

John looked at Root’s secretary who assured him there was no one in there and she wasn’t on her phone. She might have been on her cell, he thought, but he knocked anyway. She told him to come in and that’s when he saw it – Bear was sitting next to her. John looked around and Samantha realized he overheard her.

“Just talking to Bear,” she explained.

John remained expressionless. “I was hoping to introduce Ms. Shaw to the team,” he said.

“Oh, good,” Root said. “She’ll like that, I bet.”

“So….do you…know where she is?” the team leader asked.

“Who? Sameen?” Root asked, because she loved messing with John’s head. It was so easy some days.

“Yes,” John said, a pained smile on his face. “I assumed from last night’s headlines, she was feeling better.”

“Oh, yes, she’s doing ….. great,” Root said and that look that John had seen on his boss’ face the other day appeared again. It was as if mentioning the new employee’s name totally distracted Root.

* * *

Sameen was, in fact, in the building, but was taking care of something first.

“Hey, you don’t know me…..,” Shaw was saying to the woman whom she followed into the bathroom for the second time.

“Yes, I do!” the woman said, remembering that face. “You’re the woman who took my clothes off and stole them,” she said, backing up against a stall.

“Okay, well, technically ….yes,” Shaw said, surprised the woman remembered her. “Funny story. I…was going …to an interview….,” Shaw started to explain.

“SECURITY!” the woman yelled out loud.

“Oh, well, here’s the really funny thing,” Sameen said, taking out her wallet and holding out two crisp one hundred dollar bills. “I am…… Security.”

“What?” the woman asked horrified.

“Yeah, I got the job. I guess I …dressed for success,” Shaw said, and laughed at her own joke. “So, I’m sorry … I took your clothes.”

The woman looked at Sameen and didn’t move. She looked at the money. “Those were two hundred dollar shoes,” she said in a small voice.

“You’re kidding me?” Shaw said, certain they were not worth it. “Well…,” she paused, taking two more hundred dollars out…, “Seems you were robbed long before I got here,” she said, winking.

There was something about Sameen’s wink that totally infatuated people; men and women.

“Oh, well, thank you,” the woman said, calming down. “I’m Janine, from Human Resources, by the way,” she said and her tone was surgery sweet. She held onto Shaw’s hand when she accepted the money. “Do you need….anything ….today?” she asked, pulling at her blouse, as an example.

“Oh, no….that’s fine. It was just the once, but…thanks,” Sameen said, and now she was the one backing up to exit the room.

“What did you say your name was?” Janine asked and she was staring Shaw up and down.

“Shaw, and it’s…my first day, so I have to be….,” Sameen said and pointed to the ceiling. She finally got the door between her and the woman and held it shut while Janine tried to pull it open.

* * *

John was just on his way back, about to tell his team that the newest member was already AWOL when he saw Sameen standing there against the door.

“Good to see you, Shaw,” John said and meant it.

Sameen was so relieved to find someone she knew. “Yeah, John, great,” she stammered and let go of the door. “Good to see you, too.”

John watched as the HR staffer swung open the door when Shaw let go. “Goodbye, Miss Shaw,” she said slowly as Sameen walked down the aisle with John.

“Give it to me straight, Reese,” Sameen said, military person to military person. “This whole place is nuts, aren’t they?”

Reese almost smiled, but never said a word.


	19. Eat, Drink, and Be Merry

Shaw smiled goodbye to her new friend, Janine, who was down the hallway, waving frantically. “Good bye, Miss Shaw,” she yelled and Sameen overheard her tell an onlooker – ‘We have the same taste in clothes.’

“It can only get better,” she told herself.

Then she met the Security team.

As soon as she walked into the conference room with John, the woman in the first chair approached her quickly and shook her hand. “Martine Rousseau,” she announced as she held Shaw’s hand in a tight grip. Shaw looked up at the blonde woman whose hair was pulled back so tightly, she was surprised the woman could speak. She shook Sameen’s hand vigorously.

Now, Shaw knew what steady handshakes felt like; and this one was meant to display strength and dominance. Shaw looked her dead in the eye, smiled, and squeezed back. “Shaw,” she smiled.

“That come with a first name?” one of the men at the table asked, “Or do we just call you Shaw?”

Sameen immediately detected he was attempting to be friendly and funny, so she smiled at him.

“I hope you don’t call me at all.” It was said in jest and the others in the room took it as an opportunity to tease the man that he had just been shot down. Shaw smiled, pretending to be pleased.

“Okay,” John said, standing at the head of the table and wanting to get the meeting started. “This is Sameen Shaw. She’s our newest member of Team BEAR,” he started, but Sameen, who was standing to his left, interrupted.

“Team what?” she asked incredulously.

“Team BEAR,” one of the men said, and showed the company logo on his white company polo shirt.

Sameen turned in horror to look at John. “You didn’t say there was a uniform!” she said, in disgust. “There’s......... a uniform?”

“Oh, we got ourselves a rogue,” one of the women said.

“I’m not wearing a …a…no…..,” Sameen stammered as she struggled to find the words polite enough for the group.

“Ms. Shaw?” John said, looking at her. “Could you, maybe take a seat. Grab some breakfast,” he said, tossing the foodie a distraction.

That caught Sameen’s attention. John sighed as Sameen scoured the room to find the food and walk back to where it was. “Okay then,” John started again, but the only one looking at him was Martine; everyone else was staring at the woman walking by to get food.

Shaw loaded up a plate with scrambled eggs, sausage, home fries, and toast. Then she filled up a second plate with pancakes drowning in syrup. One of the men at the end of the table jumped up and carried her second plate to the table, while another offered to get her coffee. “Make it two,” she said.

“Are we done?” John asked and his commented was aimed more at the staff members that were fawning over Shaw.

Sameen watched as the men sat back down and everyone turned to look at John. She wondered what kind of Security team they could be – looking like Ralph Lauren dressed them in uniforms.

“Thank you,” John said and didn’t mean it. “Sameen joins us today. She’s got an extensive background which you will find in your file. Take a look. Now….,” John continued, but Sameen, mouth full, nudged one of her new friends to show her the file. He quickly accessed it on his tablet and showed her. It showed her picture and listed her various prior experiences.

“Not bad,” Shaw said, having to cup her mouth when a piece of food threatened to come out.

“May I?” John asked from down the table.

“Sure,” Sameen said and realized John was serious about this being a meeting.

John went through the duties of the department and the expectations for each of the members as part of the team. Sameen listened, but didn’t really think much of it applied to her. She wasn’t quite getting the concept of team….or meeting….or expectations…or hierarchy.

“Now this is Form 675,” John was explaining when Sameen was finishing her first breakfast. She barely looked at John; instead sizing up the people at the table. She could tell which ones were retired cops, former military, and previous mall cops.

“I have a question,” Sameen said out loud, wiping her mouth on the napkin the guy next to her offered.

“Is… it… about…. Form 675?” John asked impatiently, and hated this part of his job. He was only doing it because he wanted Shaw to hit the ground running.

“Form what?” Shaw asked sincerely and people started to crack up. John looked at them hard; there was no laughing in his meetings.

“Okay, Shaw,” John said and Sameen was beginning to learn that he used that particular tone when he was about to pay her back. “Martine, could you take Ms. Shaw through the forms and policies later? “ he asked, but never took his eyes off Sameen.

There was no mistaking that Shaw had just earned her first demerit.

“Oh, oh,” a couple of the people near the new employee said.

Sameen got it. She wasn’t paying attention, which pissed John off, and now he was sticking her with the overzealous teacher’s pet….in the white polo shirt….with the company logo....as punishment.

“I think that covers everything,” he smiled and Shaw realized – it actually wasn’t a good thing when John Reese smiled. He thanked everyone for coming and the only two people who didn’t move were Shaw, who was still eating, and Martine, who was smiling more than John was.

“This is great! Give us a chance to get to know one another,” Martine said, who immediately sized Shaw up as her only real competition at BEAR.

“Oh, yeah, great,” Shaw said and Martine stood up and held the door open, signaling that breakfast was over. “Oh,” Sameen said, and pushed as many of the pancakes as she could in her mouth, before allowing the waiter to remove her plate.

“Wait until you see what we’re having for lunch,” the dining room waiter said because he never saw anyone enjoy the food as much as the new employee.

“I’ll be back,” Shaw promised because so far, the food plan was the best thing about this company.

* * *

Then, Sameen dutifully followed the tall blonde woman out of the room where she insisted on giving Shaw a tour of the security area. She explained that if she were assigned to Ms. Groves or Mr. Finch at a social function, which they often attended, their security was responsible for casing the location first. Martine showed Shaw how to use the computer program that had NYC every building schematic in it.

“Are there often threats on their lives?” Sameen asked out of curiosity.

“Oh, well, there are a lot of jealous people out there. Many of whom would like to get their hands on BEAR’s latest developments and programs. Between you and me,” Martine said, trying to win Shaw’s trust, “…Ms. Groves may be a genius in technology, but she’s not so careful about where she conducts business.”

“You’re telling me, sister,” Shaw slipped and then just smiled when the blonde looked at her curiously.

“How good are you with a weapon?” Martine finally got to ask, after giving the tour.

“I’m decent,” Shaw said and thought of how many times she wanted to shoot her tour guide. Martine spoke with an air of confidence that bordered on condescension covered up by a veneer of friendliness that wasn’t all that believable.

“Let’s see,” Martine smiled and Sameen knew this woman was probably already the best shot they had on the team, except for John.

“Let me ask you a question,” Shaw asked as they went into the company shooting range and Martine got them weapons. “Are you in any position to make my job easier or harder?”

Martine turned and stared at the new employee whom seemed to just say whatever was on her mind. She hadn’t yet sized her up beyond being a threat to her career advancement at BEAR. “I like you, Shaw,” she said as if she meant it. Unimpressed with whether her fellow employee like her or not, Shaw waved her head as if to urge the woman to get back to the question. “The team sees me as a leader. I’m sure they’ll look to me to give you the nod,” Martine said.

Shaw didn’t care what anyone thought of her, but she knew how teams work. You might need someone to do you a favor and getting off on the wrong foot, could make that tougher somewhere down the road.

“Let’s see what you can do with this,” Martine said, handing the powerful gun to Shaw.

The target at the end of the firing lane came forward. Shaw put on the protective gear over her ears, aimed the gun, and shot the entire magazine in rapid succession. Each shot hit the target, dead center. Then, Martine took her gun and emptied it. It almost looked like a duplicate of Shaw’s, except for the last shot which was just a hair outside the center.

“Not bad,” Martine commented, but anger boiled inside.

“Looks like she’s pretty good,” John said, coming out of nowhere, having watched the demonstration. He wasn’t letting anyone be Root’s bodyguard without seeing what they could do.

“Let’s see what she can do in martial arts,” Martine suggested, but John said he needed to take Shaw to HR. “Next time,” she said to the new employee, and Shaw was almost certain the woman was looking forward to roughing her up.

“She’s wound a little tight, don’t you think?” Shaw asked John.

“She’s gonna kick your ass, Shaw,” John said, having seen the woman take down other team members in practice.

“You want to put money on that?” Shaw asked, willing to take his cash.

“I’m taking you to Human Resources, Shaw, where they’ll tell you how you’re not allowed to participate in betting on the premises,” John said.

* * *

Shaw looked at her watch and wondered what time lunch was. Then she saw that John was leading her right over to the desk of the woman she met that morning. “Oh, Reese, no…,” Shaw was saying, but John was already introducing them.

“Oh, I know Ms. Shaw,” Janine was saying in a sing song tone that made John turn and look at Sameen, who shrugged her shoulders. “I’d give her the shirt off my back,” the woman added and laughed heartily at her joke.

John just had to look at the expression on Sameen’s face to know she thought this was close to torture.

“Now, let’s see, there’s your I-9 form, your health forms, you gym membership form, your ID card form, …..” the woman said, gathering a stack of papers. “Oh, we need a picture,” she said, snapping a picture of Sameen and almost blinding her.

“Play nice,” he whispered to Sameen, who was about to lose it.

“Now, you sit right here,” the woman said, pulling the chair very close to hers, “….and I’ll go through all these forms.” She kept patting the chair for Sameen to sit.

Now, Shaw knew how to handle tough guys and obnoxious people, like Martine, but BEAR was filled with – what she felt were - mentally unstable people, and Shaw struggled to know how to deal with them. She remembered Lionel’s text that he sent her this morning. “Good luck on your first day. Don’t hit anyone.” She rolled her eyes; resigned to the fact that she had no choice, but to sit through this nonsense. Janine couldn’t have been happier and was showing Shaw all the different polices the company had in place.

* * *

An hour later .........

“Now, this is very important,” Janine said very slowly. She pointed to the computer screen. “This is our policy on sexual harassment.”

Shaw slowly leaned forward and put her hand on the metal letter opener that was sticking out of the pen holder on Janine’s desk. Suddenly, she felt someone’s hand on hers. Shaw looked up to see Root, standing there. Her hand was on Sameen, but her eyes were glaring at the HR woman.

“I think I will take Ms. Shaw through our policy on sexual …harassment,” Root said in a very definite tone.

There was no mistaking that she was putting Janine in her place and the woman shot up in her seat and uttered – “Yes, of course, Ms. Groves.”

Shaw watched as a look of victory came over Root’s face. “I’d like you to come with me, Ms. Shaw,” she smiled to Sameen who got up quickly and thanked Janine.

Shaw thought Root was simply saving her from hell – maybe paying her back for all the trouble she had caused her.

In reality, what Root was doing, was staking her claim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe John told the wrong woman to play nice? lol - what do you think?


	20. Eating Your Words

Samantha wasn’t quite prepared for what had just happened. She had been sitting at her desk, working on a new program, when she suddenly realized she had been checking her phone constantly for a text from Shaw. There was no reason to believe the woman would actually send a text, but that didn’t stop Samantha from wishing for it. She pushed it out of her mind – after telling Bear, of course, and went back to work. But the hope that Sameen might at least let her know she arrived in the building, continued to nag until she decided to nonchalantly walk the halls – hoping to run into her.

Even from down the hallway, Root could see how Janine was openly flirting with Sameen. At one point, the woman actually reached over to push the stray stand of hair out of Shaw’s face. Sameen pulled back immediately, never letting anyone actually touch her. But the fact that someone thought they could do that incensed Root. She approached them and was taking Shaw with her before she knew it.

Now, she was dealing with all those feelings that the anger had let loose. “Got to be on the same page,” she repeated in her head.

Shaw had never seen Root with anything less than a smile on her face. Even in the wilds, when a gigantic man was coming at her, she didn’t frown. Right now, though, Root looked downright dangerous. Shaw got on the elevator with her boss and rode in silence until she couldn’t take it anymore.

Quiet Root was even more annoying that talkative Root.

“So, I made a new friend,” Shaw finally said, breaking the silence. “Of course, she does want to kick my ass.”

“We have a dinner tonight,” Root said because she was trying to remain focused.

Shaw was surprised that she hadn’t reacted to her comment. “Oh, okay. Where? I’m supposed to case the joint before you go…,” Sameen said as they walked into Root’s office that was larger than Shaw’s apartment. The floor to ceiling windows gave a beautiful view of Manhattan’s skyline. “Do you ever get lost in here? My God, Root, your desk is bigger than my bed,” Shaw laughed.

Her analogy only stirred Root’s feeling as she now imagined her desk with white satin sheets and pillows. “Who wants to kick your ass?” Root segued back, but mostly because she was staring at the body part in question, as Shaw looked out the window.

“What? Oh, John’s pet. Feeling threatened I think. What does she do?” Sameen asked, sitting down on the couch, with her arm stretched out across the back, her feet crossed on the coffee table.

“Oh, Martine,” Root guessed right away. “She works for me. Well, they all work for me, technically,” Root laughed. Just being alone with Shaw was making her feel calmer. She stared at the face she had been stroking twenty-four hours ago as Sameen slept. “How….,” Root said, pulling her eyes away. “…..are you feeling?” she asked as she sat down on the couch next to the new employee.

This quick change of subject seemed normal to Shaw. “Good. Yeah, thanks, good.”

“Good,” Root repeated. “So, why does Martine want to kick your….?” But she couldn’t bring herself to name the body part without thinking of it.

“Maybe she thinks I’m in it for the gold stars from John,” Sameen joked, but Root didn’t find it funny. Shaw didn’t know Samantha long, but even she knew this was odd behavior for the woman whose conduct was always some flavor of peculiar.

Samantha was sitting there recalling Shaw’s altercation with the man in the jungle. Those steel arms; the way she moved on her feet, how she knew exactly which way to move. She laughed nervously as she felt her face flush. If there was anyone who should get put in their place, it was Martine. Root didn’t dislike her, but she did find her a bit overbearing. The silence befell the room again, as Root wished she could just kidnap Sameen and go away with her. She had to do something.

Then, Root uttered three words that made Shaw’s stomach drop. “Let’s go shopping!”

“What?” Shaw asked, thinking it was too close to lunchtime. “Oh, you mean you’ll go shopping and we’ll catch up later?” she hoped.

“Silly,” Root said, thinking they both needed outfits for the gala tonight. “Come on, Bear,” his owner said as she walked back to the elevator. The dog looked at Shaw and she swore he jerked his head.

“I’m coming, I'm coming,” Shaw said and then rolled her eyes that she was answering the dog. “Must be in the food.”

* * *

Samantha needed a new dress like she needed a new computer, but what she did need was some alone time with Shaw. They got downstairs, where a large black car was waiting for them….with a chauffeur. Which led Shaw to ask – “Where was this guy last night?”

Without skipping a beat, Root answered; “Off.”

The car stopped outside one of the most expensive shops on Madison Avenue and Root got out. “Want me to stay with the dog?” Shaw offered, but Root explained that he had another appointment.

“Of course he does,” Shaw said, slowing getting out and thinking the dog was lucky.

“This will be fun,” Root promised and Sameen decided they had very different definitions of that word.

* * *

The women in the shop gathered like moths to a flame when Root entered and greeted them in French. Shaw’s French continued to be rusty, but she could gather that Root was introducing her as her ‘guarde du corps’. All three women looked over at Sameen, who was sitting down in one of those upholstered chairs, and waved at her with their fingers.

“Just shoot me now,” Shaw whispered to the gods.

Whatever they were discussing, it had them very excited and their intonations bordered on screeching when Root agreed with them.

“Or I could shoot them,” Sameen said, continuing her self-conversation and then realized an older woman was walking right near her and overheard her comments. She gave Sameen a stern look. “No, I was just….,” she tried, but the woman put her nose up in the air and walked away.

The three women scurried off as Root returned to Shaw and sat next to her.

“Don’t tell me they ran out of chiffon,” Sameen mocked and her displeasure was palpable.

“No, silly. I would never order anything with chiffon for you,” Root said, and Sameen turned quickly in her seat, but the women were back. One of them was pulling Shaw up out of her chair.

“Okay, no touching,” Shaw was saying, but the women were putting dresses up in front of her and showing Root. “What …?” Shaw was asking, but Root was scrunching up her nose and saying no.

Finally, there was a black, sleeveless, low cut dress that even Sameen liked. “Oh, now that, I like!” Root said and the women agreed in unison. “You need something for tonight’s event,” Root finally explained. The woman whipped the dress away to find matching shoes and jewelry.

“Hey, how to do you know …I don’t have something,” Sameen said, defensively.

“I looked in your bags,” Root said, smiling coquettishly.

“Okay…..,” Shaw said because her boss was right. “Well, I’ll pay….”

“Didn’t John tell you about the uniform allowance for the job?” Root said as the women wrapped everything up.

“He showed me…god-awful white polo shirts that make your security team look like ball-boys at the French Open,” Shaw quipped.

“Aren’t they ugly?” Root commented and Sameen was so happy to hear that they weren’t something Root thought up. “Uncle Harry thinks they should wear them,” Root shared.

“Who put Harold in charge of uniforms?” Shaw had to ask.

“He likes that sort of thing – order and uniforms and forms,” Samantha smiled.

The women were back with a pile of boxes that contained the dress, shoes and accessories. Shaw went to take out her wallet, but Root explained that since she was requiring Sameen to attend the gala, it was only fair they pay for her clothes.  
The only other time Shaw was issued work clothes was when she was in the marines. This was way better.

* * *

When they exited the store, the black car was waiting for them. Bear was in the front seat asleep. “He always does that after his massage,” Samantha whispered to Shaw. The dog was out like a light.

They dropped Shaw off at the hotel where the event was being held so she could familiarize herself with the space. Root waved goodbye and told her she’d see her later. It wasn’t until she got out of the car that Sameen remembered her clothes were still there. “Oh, sonova ….,” she said as the car pulled into traffic.

“What did you do, Shaw, forget to kiss the dog goodbye,” Fusco said and almost startled Shaw.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped, feeling like someone was always finding her.

“City street? Public domain? Everyone is allowed here,” Fusco replied. “You hungry?”

“I’m starving. I was supposed to have lunch, but she took me sho….,” Shaw said and stopped abruptly.

“Took you…shoo…ping?” he guessed correctly and Shaw pursed her lips and shook her head. “So, you’re on shopping duty? Maybe you’re training for Black Friday sales? Fusco laughed because he knew even Shaw wouldn’t hit a cop in public.

“Okay, okay,” Shaw said, conceding she made a slip.

Fusco moved up on the line and ordered two foot-long hotdogs with everything on them. “You’re not eating?” Sameen asked, and he upped the order to three.

“And I want soda,” Shaw said, because Fusco never blinked with how demanding she sounded.

“You want I should get you napkins and a straw?” he shot back.

This was the verbal exchange these two friends had. Shaw, acting like he annoyed the hell out of her, when she knew he was really the only friend she had; and Fusco, pretending like she irritated him, when he knew everyone looked at him differently when he was with the drop dead gorgeous woman.

“What are you even doing here?” Shaw asked, after she took the first hotdog and started biting into it.

“Big shindig going on here tonight with some foreign investors. They’re linked to organized crime back home and since they’ve arrived, we’ve had a couple of homicides that we think are related. We’re trying to see if we can get anything on them, but the NYPD isn’t exactly invited in, you know,” Fusco complained.

“I am,” Shaw said, her mouth full of onions and ketchup. She took a long drink of soda through the straw in the cup that Fusco was holding. He pulled it away, out of her reach.

“You’re going to this thing tonight?” Fusco asked, his mind racing with how he could make this work in his favor.

“Rude ez, so I hafta,” Shaw mumbled, taking the second hot dog and biting it while she tried to talk.

“You know one day, you’re going to need the Heimlich maneuver with the way you eat,” he scolded her.

“Give me a wire,” Shaw said, solving his problem. “I have to be walking around anyway. I can see if anyone says anything.”

Shaw already consulted with the NYPD, so getting her a wire would meet with approval. “That’s a great idea,” Fusco had to admit.

“It’s the only kind I have,” Shaw said, finishing the second hotdog. She took the soda from Fusco and he started to eat his lunch.

“Best twenty bucks I ever spent,” he said, having a solution to his problem.

* * *

Fusco said he would get the authorization and the wire and meet Shaw before she went to the gala. Sameen went inside the hotel, explained who she was, but they said she needed company ID. She told them to call John, who would vouch for her. John wasn’t there and Martine answered.

“You weren’t issued your ID?” she asked in a disapproving tone.

“I…was…supposed to get it, but …..I was…..busy,” Shaw said, and knew that no excuse would be good enough.

“I’ll be right there with it,” Martine said, because this gave her an opportunity to explain to the team that she had to go help the new …incompetent …..employee.

“I’ll probably kill her,” Sameen said out loud and found herself surrounded by building security who were yelling at her to drop to the ground.


	21. A Hard Pill to Swallow

John hung up the phone with Zoe just in time to see Martine running to the elevator. “Where is she going in such a hurry?” he asked someone who admitted they had no idea. Most of the team stayed out of Martine’s way.

“That was odd,” Harold commented, hanging up the phone, as John arrived for their weekly update. “Well, how is our new employee doing?” he asked, but held onto the desk as he waited for the answer.  
“You worried, Harold?” John asked with just the hint of a smile.

“I just think of Miss Shaw as someone who does not …..appreciate…..the confines of the corporate world,” Harold said delicately.

“She won’t wear the team shirt,” said the man who never wore it himself.

“Yes, well, I’m not surprised by that,” Harold conceded. “Are you all set for this evening’s event?”

“Yes,” John said. Now that Root had her own personal bodyguard, John could concentrate on Harold, who was a much easier person to watch. He worked in his office usually twelve hours a day.

“I do hope Ms. Morgan will be attending,” Harold said of the woman who was always on the A-List of these events, although Harold rarely understood what it was that she did.

“Yes, I just got off the phone. She’ll be there,” John confirmed.

“Hmm,” Harold grinned, because he always thought she and John would make a good couple. John didn’t disagree, but he and Zoe weren’t the type to commit to anything more than a dinner….followed by breakfast. “I told Grace we’d pick her up at eight.”  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Shaw followed what the poorly trained security cops asked her to do. Tourists trying to check into the hotel started to video it as their first real New York experience. “Fellas, it was just an expression. Really,” Sameen said, knowing that she could take all six of them on and be sitting there reading the New York Times when her coworker came.

“We heard you issue a threat,” one of them said, fumbling with his handcuffs. Shaw motioned to him how to untangle them.

“Look, guys, I’m one of you,” Sameen tried to say, but they decided that was a lie. “Well, not exactly like you….,” she couldn’t help but add.

Any minute now, Shaw knew Martine would be walking into the lobby and making a big deal out of this. This wouldn’t be like Fusco trying to have a laugh at her expense; this would be the start of a torturous relationship. So, she was expecting some snide remark, but instead she heard – “Here’s your ID card, Ms. Shaw!”

She turned to see Janine rushing toward the men, waving her newly issued card. “She’s with BEAR and you better hope Ms. Groves does not hear about this,” the woman harrumphed. “Ms. Shaw is her personal bodyguard and my boss will not be happy if you have done anything to upset her. Have they upset you, Ms. Shaw?” Janine asked, sounding more armed and dangerous than the men.

Sameen knew that the guards were just trying to do their job. Poorly, but trying. “No, I’m okay, Janine. Thanks,” Shaw said, taking the card and showing the hotel staff. “It’s all good,” Shaw smiled as she showed her ID. Then she felt the motion of Janine brushing the dirt off her pants where she knelt. “I’m good, I’m good,” Shaw tried, but Janine had grabbed a brush from her pocketbook and was wiping the pants clean.

“Sorry, Ms. Shaw, we have to take every threat seriously,” they apologized when they realized her credentials were legit. Sameen was satisfied, but Janine was not.

“You better hope no one tells Ms. Groves about this,” she barked and Shaw was beginning to think the only one who would tell Root was Janine.

Then Martine arrived. “Oh, so you had HR save you,” she said, arriving late due to a message that she got that Harold wanted to talk to her. He had no idea what she was talking about and now she suspected that Janine had sent the text.

Shaw just smiled at the woman. “Janine was nice enough to bring it to me.”

“It should be carried at all times,” Martine lectured, trying to get some satisfaction out of Sameen’s faux pas.

“Will do,” Sameen said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, and pushing the ID down her shirt, into her bra.

Martine detested this woman’s complete disregard for rules and regulations. “How did you even get hired?” she asked, disgusted.

“I passed the three-part test,” Shaw answered of her abduction. “Oh, and the dog liked me.”

“I think everyone likes her,” they heard Janine swoon to one of the hotel employees.

Martine left defeated, but more determined. People like Shaw eventually screwed up and she’d be there to pick up the pieces. Janine went back to work feeling like the sidekick to the new caped crusader. “If you need something for tonight,” she shouted back to Sameen before parting ways. The manager came out and took Sameen to the room where the event would take place. Given that her employer was so well regarded, Shaw was shown floor plans and given access to the security team. Two hours later, she returned home.

* * *

Even before Sameen put the key in her door, she knew someone was inside. She reached for her Nano, but remembered that due to everyone touching her things, she didn’t know where anything was. She took a deep breath, figuring she’d have to physically subdue the intruder, when the door swung open.

“Come on in, Sunshine,” Fusco smiled and held the door open.

“What the hell, Lionel! I could have killed you! I thought you were an intruder,” Shaw barked, warning her friend that entering her home was a dangerous thing to do.

“Yeah? Well, you would have been busy with ….them,” he said, and jerked his head in the direction of the crowd of people in Shaw’s living area.

“Did you ….are they yours?” Sameen demanded to know, not coming through the door.

“Oh, the tech over there is mine. We were here to wire…did you know that even though we don’t use wires, we still say that?” he asked as if he had all the time in the world. Shaw stared at him. “It’s what they call – part of our parlance.” And then as if Sameen had asked him to define that he added, “That’s a fancy word for jargon. I got one of those word-a-day calendars…”

“Is death-by-strangulation on your calendar, Lionel, cause I’m about to choke you,” Sameen spat.

“Very funny,” Lionel replied and explained that it was a word a day and that there were no phrases.

“It’s a good thing I can’t find my guns,” Shaw said, still in the doorway.

“Is that Miss Shaw?” a woman almost screamed with excitement.

“Did you …..just flinch…. Shaw?” Lionel asked because he was beginning to understand that his friend was more afraid of regular people than the bad guys.

The roundish, older woman walked over and pulled Sameen by the hand. “We are behind schedule,” she said as Sameen tried to unfree herself.

“It seems that when I spoke to your boss,” Lionel said and Shaw’s head snapped back to look at him. “You know to get clearance about the wire, because you’re a BEAR employee now. Did you know that’s an acronym?” he asked.

Sameen wasn’t sure which part of that sentence upset her the most – Lionel speaking to Root or reminding her that she was a BEAR employee.

“Who are you people?” Shaw finally demanded and everyone stopped what they were doing.

The woman looked insulted that Sameen wouldn’t know who she was. “Ms. Shaw, I’m from the shop. Ms. Groves asked me to bring your clothes here.”

Sameen looked past the woman and saw all the boxes piled up on the futon. “O….kay. Thanks,” she said, wondering how everyone kept getting into her apartment. “I’m changing those locks,” she said, an eyebrow raised. Sameen was about to tell everyone, in no uncertain terms, that they were to leave her apartment when she heard it –

“Oh, hello, Sweetie!”

“And now ladies and gentlemen, the Ring Master has arrived,” Shaw huffed.

“Ms. Groves, she won’t allow us to help her dress,” the woman complained, trying to cover her ass.

“Ha! They’re gonna dress Shaw,” Lionel said to no one from behind the refrigerator door, having found that for the first time since he knew her, it actually contained food.

Sameen started to swivel her head back and forth, searching the apartment. “Where are my guns?” she begged Root, holding onto her forearms.

“Sameen, you don’t need weapons,” Root assured her.

Sameen looked up at the woman she was certain was behind this circus in her apartment. “Please,” she said with such sincerity and demureness, that Lionel stopped mid-bite of the chef made sandwich. Root had never seen Shaw look so …..unlike Shaw and it got right to her.

“Where’s my friend and what have you done to her?” Fusco asked Root.

“Over there,” Root said smiling, unable to deny Shaw anything when she spoke like that, or any other way. Samantha had moved most things in Sameen’s apartment to fit the new accoutrements.

Like a kid who had a bad day and needed to hold onto their security blanket, Shaw rushed to the box hidden behind the futon and sat on the floor. “There you are,” she said lovingly, caressing her Glock. It was the only thing that made her feel sane in this crazy spectacle.

“Did you bring it?” Lionel asked Samantha. He had reached out to her to inform her that Shaw volunteered to provide technical assistance to the NYPD tonight at the event. “We have to make sure it transmits,” he said between bites. “Shaw, you should try this…,” he said of the delicious sandwich.

That’s when they heard the click of the gun and everyone turned. Shaw had her firearm pointed up in the air at the ceiling. “Everyone out!” she said and the people from the shop and the tech assistant scurried out the door.

“Nice exit,” Lionel said because he and Root hadn’t moved.

“Lionel,” Root said softly, but her tone indicate that she wanted him to stop teasing his friend. “I think I can handle it from here.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “You’re sure this is gonna work?”

“Absolutely,” Root assured him because her inventions never failed.

“What’s gonna work?” Shaw asked suspiciously.

“Brainiac here came up with a digital transmitter that fits in your…..,” Lionel explained, but then couldn’t bring himself to say the article of clothing.

“You better say button, Fusco,” Shaw growled because she knew how small these devices could be now.

“Sameen,” Root said, smiling broadly. “There are no buttons on your dress.” Root took the black, sleeveless, low cut dress out of the box as proof.

“Definitely, no buttons there,” Lionel said of the sexy apparel.

“I’ll wear glasses,” Shaw said sardonically, never expecting the two of them to figure out an alternative.

“Tell her,” Lionel said, because his friend was headed in the wrong direction.

Root did better than tell; she whipped out the brand new garment from the box and showed her. “We put it in your bra!” Root squealed with pride.

Lionel took one look at Shaw’s face and almost choked on the last bite of the sandwich.

“Really?” she asked Root who was trying to show Sameen exactly where in the bra the device was hidden.

“Okay, I’ll leave you two to……get ready,” Lionel said, thinking this was the funniest thing. “Shaw, once you’re all set, put this earpiece in and I’ll communicate from the truck.”

“Let’s try this on,” Root was suggesting, as Shaw stood there armed, with her arms crossed.

Lionel knew this was his time to leave. “Okay, Shaw,” he yelled as he walked out. “You can keep us … _abreast_ ……. of the situation,” he said and laughed so loud at his own joke that he had to stop in the doorway to catch his breath.

Shaw looked at Root who seemed completely unaware of the material she just handed Fusco who would use it for the rest of Shaw’s life.

“Isn’t this exciting?” Root said, not discerning Shaw’s look of disgust from the expression she wore most of the time. “We will be working a case together.” There was actual glee in Root’s voice at the idea.

“Wait a minute,” Shaw said. “There’s no _we_. _We_ are not working a case. _We_ will be in the same room, but _I_ will be trying to see if anyone is talking about something that NYPD might be interested in,” she explained.  
“ _Me_ ,” she reiterated. “Not, _we_.”

Root almost looked hurt that Shaw was explaining it this way. “But, Sameen,” Root said in the kind of voice you use when you’re about to prove someone is wrong, but you’re letting them down really easy, “You are my bodyguard, so we will sort of always be together.”

Root had a point. Sameen hated to admit it, but she was right. As her bodyguard, she was supposed to be close to Root, not wandering around, interviewing suspects. That would be suspicious.

“But I figured it out,” Root said, and didn’t intend for that to be salt in the wound Sameen felt it was. “I know these people, and I think they’ll be willing to talk in front of me, to impress me,” Root explained.

Shaw just stood there, staring, as it slowly sunk in that her boss had the better idea. Investors willing to throw cash in Root’s direction might be willing to talk. They just became a ‘we’.

Root stood there, the article of clothing, dangling from her finger as Sameen relented into accepting they were now a duo.

“I know how to put one of these on,” Shaw said cynically as she snatched the bra from Root’s hand.

“Yes, but do you know how to turn it on?” Root shouted as Shaw walked into the bathroom. “It can be very tricky.”

Of course it was tricky; Root had designed it that way.


	22. Taking a Bite of the Reality Sandwich

“I’ve detonated bombs in Afghanistan; I think I can handle a wire in a bra,” Shaw yelled out to Root as she closed the bathroom door hard. ‘Thinks I can’t handle a simple wire? Like I’m going to need help turning on a stupid transmitter?’ she mumbled as she started to shower to prepare for her evening shift.

Root, in the meantime, changed in the living area, having instructed the shop to bring her clothes, as well. She used her pocketbook mirror to do her hair and makeup. Then she stepped into a red strapless dress that was made to order. In less time than it took Sameen to complain that someone questioned her technology skills, Root was ready to go.

Minutes later, the water shut off, but Shaw’s annoyance that someone doubted her ability to operate the wire hadn’t. Root pursed lips thinking – even when she’s grumpy, Shaw’s adorable.

Then, Sameen set out to prove her point. She dried off, put the fancy bra on, and proceeded to get the wire to work.

Root sat on the futon patiently as her bodyguard’s voice got louder and louder as she couldn’t figure out how the wire worked. Shaw finally realized that if Root had anything to do with this, it wouldn’t be simple.

“We have to go soon, Sameen,” Root reminded her bodyguard gently as she stood outside the bathroom.

The door swung open and Sameen stood there in her tightly clasped robe. Admitting defeat was a foreign concept to Sameen, so she finally said – “Ok, where the hell did you put the on switch?” Several attempts to locate it had failed.

“I didn’t mean to make it so hard,” Root lied, having come up with this brilliant idea all on her own. “I was in a rush,” the half lie came. Root could have thought this up in her sleep.

“Yeah, yeah, just tell me how to turn it on,” Shaw said, robe still closed and waiting for instructions.

“You have to ….,” Root started to explain as she pushed her two hands closer together.

“What? Clap my hands? Is this like that light thing old people use?” Shaw asked in horror that she might have to applaud every time she wanted to turn it on and off.

“No, silly” Root laughed and quickly suppressed it. “You have to squeeze ….them…,” she said slowly, as she stepped into the room, closing the distance between them now.

“What the hell kind of wire is this?” Shaw demanded to know.

“I didn’t have the high conductive kind and we were kind of in a hurry,” the inventor said, and some of that was true.

“Are you telling me that every time I want to activate the wire, I have to do this?” Shaw asked and reached up and pushed her breasts together.

“A little more like…,” Root said, going near her to demonstrate.

“Root,” Shaw warned, retreating a step.

“Try….,” Root said and demonstrated by straightening out her arms and crossing them at the wrist.

“I can’t do that all night,” Shaw yelled.

“You ….just need to do it once,” Root pointed out.

Shaw just stared her contempt at having to do this, but she tried again.

Root watched her try in vain. “I think the pressure has to come from the outside …a bit more to the back and then forward. I don’t know why it’s not working,” Root said and while that was true, she wasn’t disappointed.

Sameen needing her help…….. was the whole point here.

Shaw knew she could either stand there hugging herself to death, or she could let the mad scientist who invented this thing, show her. “Fine!” Shaw said, gritting her teeth, rolling her eyes, and whipping the robe open so Root could help.

“O…kay,” Root couldn’t help but utter because, even though she selected the black lace lingerie, seeing it on Shaw was another thing.

“And by the way,” Shaw said, eyes narrowed on Root who had still not moved. “…..how did you even know what size to get?” Shaw noticed that the women at the fancy dress shop never took one measurement.

“I….,” Root said, wanting to answer this question delicately, “…I have an eye for detail.” She didn’t want to remind Sameen that those eyes had seen her au natural and memorized every detail about her. Even the scars. Root smiled, and waited for Sameen to give her permission to try.

“Go ahead,” Shaw said, facing the woman, but looking away. She shook her head in disbelief that she couldn’t figure it out. “It’s a good thing you never worked for the military,” she said.

“Yeah,” Root said, slowly putting her hands on either side of Sameen, inside the robe. She hadn’t exactly planned it to go this way.

Oh, wait. Yes, she did!

But now that she was assisting, she was worried how Shaw would perceive this. She slowly put her hands on the sides of the bra near the seam on the bottom and gently pushed the underwire together, while Shaw waited.

Sameen didn’t like anyone touching her. It had been so long since she was okay with it, that when it happened, it totally unnerved her. She was fine with the occasional arm punch she and Fusco traded, but when his son, Lee, hugged her, she stood there stiffly, and held her breath until he let go. She just didn’t know how to respond to it. So, the fact that her boss was touching her breasts should have sent Shaw directly over the edge. And yet, it didn’t. For a second, as Root’s fingers grazed Sameen’s skin as she pushed the wire forward to connect, it felt okay. This was the first time Sameen could remember anyone getting this close to her that she didn’t instinctively feel threatened or react by pushing them away.

Then, Sameen worried that Root would sense something; and somehow perceive that she was …thinking…..about her …..feelings.

Not only was Root aware, but she was counting it as a small victory. Her plan was to get as close to Shaw as she would allow. This whole ploy was part of a strategy she had used once before – with Bear when he was a puppy.  He was very skittish and hesitant at first.  Every day, Root worked patiently getting him to trust her by sitting on the floor and just being with him. It took a little while, but finally Bear learned to trust her. Now, he rarely left the side of the woman he learned to trust without question.

She wanted nothing less for Sameen.

Of course, in all the time she worked with Bear, Root never really feared he would bite her. That wasn’t exactly the case here.

“Are we good?” Shaw said abruptly, and Root came back from her reverie and stared at Shaw. The dark eyed woman looked down at the hands that still embraced her and then back up to meet Root’s eyes.

Root smiled broadly that Shaw hadn’t flinched. “Yes, I think we are. I really do,” she answered and let go.

Shaw just looked at her, wondering what the big deal was. It seemed to Sameen, her boss could never just answer a yes or no question …..with a yes or no. “Now, let see if this actually works,” Sameen said and they went back into the living area where she pushed the earpiece into her ear.

“Having trouble with the wire, Shaw?” came Fusco’s voice through the earpiece.

“We’re just fine here,” Shaw shot back because she needed to unload her feelings on someone.

“Ask Coco Puffs how we adjust for your heartbeat because, contrary to what you want people to believe, Shaw, you have one, and it’s interfering,” Fusco said and did so only because he was inside the truck.

Not only did Sameen have to have help with the wire, now it would have to be adjusted? “Fusco says,” she cleared her throat, “…that there’s interference. You think maybe this wasn’t a good place for the wire?” she snarked, because eye glasses would have been so much simpler.

“I’m sending the adjustment to your phone, Detective,” Root said, because she had already thought of that.

“I calculated what the normal heartbeat range for a woman your age, build and athletic condition, would be and they will adjust the readings so it does not interfere,” Root explained even though Shaw hadn’t asked.

“That’s……great,” Sameen said, rolling her eyes that this was getting even more complicated.

“Your earrings will give them a visual,” Root announced and handed the box with the jewelry in it.

Again, Sameen stared before taking them. “Couldn’t fit the hearing device in one of these?”

“I wish,” Root lied to cover her tracks. Root’s skills could have created a device that would have fit on the head of a pin with plenty of room left over for angels, but what fun would that have been.

Shaw noticed that Fusco was thanking Root because he could hear her. “Fusco says okay. Oh, good, he can hear you from there. I thought I would have to ask people to speak into my cleavage with your device,” Sameen said sarcastically, stepping into the sleeveless black dress and donning three inch stilettos.

“I really don’t think you’re going to have to ask anyone to adjust their line of sight,” Root said, because that’s exactly why she put the wire there. Root didn’t wait to see what Shaw’s response was to that piece of news. “Don’t worry about firearms,” she added as Shaw went to get her Nano, now that she found it.

“Forget it, Root,” Shaw warned. “I’m not walking into another place with you without a weapon.”

“Oh, I think you’re already armed,” Root said in a very low voice because she couldn’t take her eyes off her bodyguard. “I…just meant… I’ve arranged to have weapons available to us, you know, should we need them.”

Shaw made sure Root was looking when she purposely shoved the gun into her pocketbook. “You know, the last time I had to defend us, you brought romance novels to a gun fight. So, yeah, excuse me for not taking your advice about firearms.”  
Root was too busy staring at how stunning Shaw looked all dressed up.

“And another thing,” Shaw bellowed as she walked to the door. “How do you people keep getting into my apartment?”

“I told you,” Fusco decided to answer. “You have to actually turn the lock for it to work, Shaw.”

“I am so not done with you, Lionel,” she said, and only then realized that everyone in the truck could hear her.

“Oooh, Lionel, she’s soooo not done with you,” his colleagues all teased him.

“Hey, shuddup!” he said, because no one made any disparaging remarks about Sameen in his presence.

Shaw groaned and walked toward the elevator, her hips naturally swaying in the high heels. “Ready?” Shaw called back impatiently when it arrived.

“Oh, God, yes, I am. I am so ready,” Root answered - kind of counting on the possibility that Shaw was – in fact – a biter.


	23. Whetting Your Appetite

Growing up the way she did, Samantha Groves missed out on a lot of things kids take for granted. Simple things like – Show and Tell – where you get to bring in your most special possessions to share with the class. She always faked being sick those days because Samantha never had anything to bring.

That night, Root was making up for that and getting her chance. The goal of the gathering that evening was to make lucrative deals between top tech company executives and investors. It was like a grownup science fair, where the companies had tables and booths of their top products and investors shopped them to see if they wanted to offer them money. Samantha thought it was the closest thing to white-collar prostitution you could get and she didn’t often go.

Root never sought out investors – they sought her.

But she was going anywhere she could now that she had a drop dead gorgeous bodyguard that had to be by her side. Shaw didn’t know it, but this event was Root’s Show and Tell and she was the favorite thing to show off.

* * *

“I should apologize,” Root said as they walked into the elevator.

“For which thing? The tazing, the drugging, the kidnapping, the …,” Shaw started to list. It actually made Root cringe a little that they hadn’t gotten past that in their relationship.

“For bringing you out so soon after having a fever,” Root explained. “If you’re not up to this….,” she offered.

“Nah, I’m fine,” Sameen said and actually was. She didn’t always rebound from being sick so quickly, but then, she hadn’t been taken care of with such TLC.

“There will be great food,” Root said, knowing the way to Shaw’s heart.

“It’s the only good thing about these types of things,” Shaw said, shaking her head at how much she detested anything that required stilettos.

“So, what’s our MO? What’s the plan? Root asked, taking an earpiece out of her purse, sounding a bit too excited for Shaw.

“Who gave you that?” Sameen asked as Root placed it in her own ear.

“Detective Fusco thought it would be a good idea,” Root said, as if she had been deputized.

“You know we’re not storming the place, right? There’ll be no hostage taking, no water boarding to get Intel,” Shaw said and then remembered her ‘device’ was still on. Then, much to Root’s delight, Shaw got very close to her in the elevator and whispered – ‘How do you shut this thing off?’

Shaw didn’t want Fusco to hear what she asking. She stood back, but it was going to take Root a minute to recover from having Sameen stand so close to her like that. The smell of Shaw’s hair, the closeness of her skin, reminded Root that this woman had been in her arms not that long ago. The usually talkative Root opened her mouth, but it was too dry to allow words to come out. “Uhm,” she said and for a minute, Shaw thought maybe there was something wrong with her.

“Are you on any kind of medication that I should know about?” Shaw asked, confused.

“What?” Root stalled, trying to get back all her faculties. “Squeeze the bra right in the middle,” she said and stared at where she meant.

“You are never making any other device I have to wear,” Sameen avowed as she struggled to get to the right spot. “Is it off?” she asked as if Root would know.

“You kind of have to ask Detective Fusco,” she pointed out, but didn’t hear any response in the earpiece. “I think you did it.”

Of course, what Root didn’t mention was that the device would have to be turned on again once they got there.

* * *

The driver picked them up and drove through the traffic to the hotel in midtown. Sameen went over the floor plan that was uploaded to her phone. “Hey Fusco,” she said and waited. Then she remembered she had shut the device off. Her head shot around to look at Root who simply smiled, her eyebrow arched.

“We have to do it here?” Shaw said, in disbelief and horror. “How is it I can’t do this myself?” she inquired, squirming in the backseat, as she attempted to turn it back on. She whipped off the seat belt and tried, as Root sat there watching.

“Isn’t it more fun with two?” the inventor asked and Shaw noticed the driver’s eyes went right to the rear view mirror. Then, Root pressed a button to darken the windows and activate the glass divide between them and the driver. Shaw watched as all of a sudden, she was in a darkened enclosure with the woman who could work the device. “Let me try it through your dress,” Root said and unstrapped herself, too, so she could face Sameen.

Shaw looked around, imagining what crazy things must tempt a person in the backseat of a darkened limo. “Just so you know,” Shaw said, as Root reached around both sides of her, “…you ever bring someone back here for some wild ….stuff….., let me sit up front instead of here, ok?”

Root looked at Shaw and she could tell, she was clueless about just who she’d like to do crazy things with in the back of that car. “I’d really prefer you be here,” Root said, pressing the bra together and activating the device before anyone could say anything else. Shaw was about to protest, but the driver announced they had arrived. Root sat back in her seat, her eyes smiling so loudly, it was impossible to miss. The car stopped and the driver came around and helped her out of the car.

“Did you just hear that?” a slightly confused Shaw asked Fusco.

“Hear what? All I can hear is your heartbeat. What the hell are you doing, running up steps?” he asked.

Under the impression now that her boss wanted her to be a voyeur to any possible tryst, Shaw decided she was going to have to lay some ground rules. “What kind of crazy shit did you get me into, Fusco?” she asked and then realized the entire van could hear her.

* * *

Sameen finally emerged from the car and witnessed the throngs of people who were lined up to see the celebrity CEO. John was there with detail that kept photographers and fans back as Root waved and even signed autographs. “You look good in a monkey suit,” Shaw said to John, who was decked out in a tuxedo. “Who did your tie? Harold?”

“Nice to see you, Shaw. Standing up,” John retaliated. Both were testing the waters of their newly formed relationship. Neither wanted the other to have the upper hand.

Just then, they went through the metal detectors, and of course, Shaw’s pocketbook made it go off. “Sorry, ma’am, no weapons,” the guard said and confiscated it until later.

“Rookie mistake, Shaw,” John teased her.

“I hate everyone at this company,” she whispered down into her cleavage. “Except the dog.”

“You okay there?” John asked after seeing Sameen bowing her head. He didn’t wait around for an answer.

“We need visual, Shaw,” Fusco reminded her.

“Well, I’m wearing the earrings, but the on switch might just be up my…,” Sameen was saying when Fusco coughed so loud into the microphone, that it stopped her. Sameen figured it out and flipped the tiny switch behind one of them.

“We got visual, Shaw,” Fusco reported in a very official sounding tone.

“So do I,” Shaw said as she watched people approach her boss and fawn all over her. Person after person came up to Root and kissed her, hugged her, or shook hands vigorously. They were so pleased that she was finally attending the event in person. Shaw couldn’t imagine having that many people touch you in one lifetime, let alone the first hour they were there.

“Good evening, Ms. Groves,” the tall, well-dressed woman said and shook Samantha’s hand. “I don’t know if you remember me.”

“Zoe Morgan,” Root said with fondness and introduced her to Shaw.

“May I introduce Sameen Shaw,” Root said and Shaw smiled. She was about a quart shy of her politeness hitting empty. Root had promised there would be food and so far, she had missed every tray that a waiter brought around. “Sameen, Ms. Morgan is a fixer,” Root said, because she was totally intrigued by the woman’s job.

“I could have used you an hour ago,” Shaw said, referring to her wire.

“No, Ms. Morgan fixes ….situations,” Root said and then John approached the trio.

Shaw finally got one of the waiters to stop with a tray of hors d’oeuvres and was in heaven. Shaw watched as Zoe’s face lit up as she greeted John, but their hug was too brief to indicate anything other than lovers. “I can see that,” Shaw said out loud and then everyone looked at her.

“Well, I’ve got a CEO who is here with her husband, and another CEO who is here with his wife and they’re all cheating on each other. So, I better get to work,” Zoe explained and said goodbye.

Shaw watched John look at the woman as she disappeared into the crowd. “No accounting for taste,” she said, waiting for John to catch on that her remark was a dig.

“Aren’t you on duty, Shaw?” he asked in his low gravelly voice.

“Witty comeback,” the bodyguard snapped, as she shoved another mini quiche in her mouth. She saw the look on John’s face. “What? I’m hungry.”

“Want me to hold one of those plates for you? Or two? Or three?” he offered because Shaw was juggling four of them.

“Why don’t they just give you human size plates, you know, instead of Barbie size ones?” she complained, not getting the concept of appetizers. Then she noticed her boss wasn’t standing right there.

“Lose something, Shaw?” John almost smiled when he saw Root walking away.

Sameen grunted, grabbing a waiter to take her plates, and trying to follow her boss. Root had seen the man that headed up the group that Fusco was interested in. She didn’t want to lose him, so she took off in pursuit. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Shaw said, seeing her boss practically on the other side of the room. “The woman has the attention span of a …of a…,” Shaw stammered, but Fusco whispered that she should choose her words carefully.

“Here she is now,” Root was saying when she saw Shaw rushing up. “Sameen, this is Peter Yogorov.”

“Yeah, how you doing?” Shaw said, dismissing the introduction. “Listen, could we get a buzz word, some kind of signal, maybe that you’re moving on? I missed shrimp puffs to run after you.”

“She’s rather attached to you, yes?” the Russian man commented with interest.

“She is,” Root smiled broadly and grabbed Sameen by the arm like they were long lost friends.

“What the f…,” Shaw was about to say when Fusco reminded her of several things; one – she was on speaker, two – she was on duty and three – that was the guy they were interested in.

“I mean…sorry, I was …hungry…,” Shaw said, because she could use that excuse twenty-four seven and it would be true. “Sorry, how do you do?” she said, shaking Peter’s hand.

“You don’t look like you could eat much,” he commented, looking Sameen up and down.

“Eyes up here, Petey,” Root said, laughing, but not meaning it when the man’s eyes locked on Shaw.

Root suddenly didn’t care if he was the focus of an NYPD sting operation. She didn’t care for the way he was devouring Shaw with his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys - for your comments and kudos. Much appreciate them all and for reading along.


	24. Eating Out of Her Hands

In the short time that Root had spent with Peter Yogorov, she managed to get him to agree to meet in private to discuss a possible partnership for what she called ‘sensitive material’. She was practically feeding him the hook by asking if he had the ‘right resources’ that could handle something that could not be distributed through normal channels. He knew how brilliant this woman was and anything she had to offer would make him a lot of money. He wanted in. Then she introduced Sameen to him and he mistakenly thought she would only sweeten the deal.

“I think we can be very happy working together," he said, kissing Shaw’s hand. It took all of Sameen’s strength not to punch the guy, but she had a part to play in all of this, and she was willing to do it.

Root suddenly didn’t care for the circumstances she found herself in and she wanted out. She turned, removed her earpiece, and slipped it into a glass as a waiter passed by. She was done. “Let’s go,” she said abruptly after introducing Sameen to the man the NYPD believed was responsible for three murders.

“Excuse me?” Shaw said and planted her feet firmly on the ground so she couldn’t be dragged away.

“What the hell are you doing, Captain Crunch?” Fusco yelled in both their earpieces, but only Sameen heard him.

“I don’t …..,” Root said, looking back at the way Peter was looking at Sameen, “….like this at all.”

“No one asked you to like it. Tell her, Shaw. No one asked her to like it. What the hell doesn’t she like?” Fusco ranted and threw his headpiece down in the van outside and rubbed his temples as he yelled that he should never had allowed this insane woman to talk him into helping them. She had just delivered Shaw to the man and now she was changing her mind. “Do we have someone inside?” Fusco asked, regaining his composure.

“Joss Carter,” his colleague answered.

“Oh, thank God,” Fusco said because what they all needed was a calm and steady hand and she was the best.

* * *

Joss was chosen because she was new to the squad; the Russians wouldn’t know her like they did the rest of the task force. Not only had she made it inside, she was talking with her contact – John Reese. They knew each other through Lionel.  
“So, you’ve got one of your best people working for us,” she smiled as she cased the room for activity.

“Let’s just say,” John said in his usual soft tone, “We have one of our.....newest.”

“I hope she’s good because it looks like there’s trouble over there,” Joss said, sipping her club soda and smiling nonchalantly.

John looked over in the direction of his boss and her new bodyguard. If there was one thing John Reese had become very familiar with, it was the many moods of Samantha Groves. He figured he had to learn the signs because her behavior was so erratic, and he rarely knew what the right response was. So, he made it his business to study the body language, colloquialisms, and expressions of the woman. He told Zoe Morgan that if a complete understanding of Root was the PhD level, he was still in grammar school. Still, he knew what that look was even from across the room.

Root was changing her mind.

He knew her well enough to know, when that happened, very little could change it back.

Fusco had the guys connect him to Joss, and he told her what was going on. “Do you have eyes on her?” he asked. He could tell from what he saw through Shaw’s earring, that she was trying with all her might to get Root to stop.

“I’ve got a beautiful set of blue ones on them right now,” Joss said, taken with how good looking her contact inside was. “I mean, yes.”

“DO SOMETHING!” Fusco yelled.

“Fusco says hello,” Carter said to John, because she was never one to panic. “Any idea what’s going on over there? My buddy Fusco needs some reassuring that your people have this under control.”

“Sure, easy for you to say from the inside, Carter,” Fusco moaned.

John stared across the room as Samantha Groves displayed something John had rarely seen. But why? What was going on over there that would cause his boss to behave more erratic than usual?

“You’re just jealous, Fusco,” Joss teased her friend through her concealed microphone.

“That’s it!” John said, and his mind raced to figure this one out. “Tell Fusco, he’s got to tell Shaw…..,” he continued wondering if his theory was right. The only other time he had seen his boss act this way was when Bear listened to Harold instead of her. It didn’t happen often, which is why John catalogued that behavior. And he was pretty sure he was seeing it now.

Root was………jealous.

“Drastic times call for drastic measures,” Joss heard John say before he turned to her. _The non-stop talking about Shaw; the attention she poured over her at the apartment; the way she kidnapped Shaw - finally started to make sense._

“Tell Fusco what?” Fusco yelled and hurt Joss’ ear.

“A complete thought would help here, John,” Carter suggested.

“Tell Fusco to tell Shaw ….Root’s jealous,” John said, and couldn’t believe those words were coming out of his mouth.

“Are you serious?” Joss and Lionel both asked at the same time, but only one was yelling it.

“Do it,” John said because he could see the situation across the room deteriorating.

* * *

“Samantha,” Shaw said slowly, turning to face the woman who was trying to drag her away. “I’d like to stay,” she said, and Peter took that as a sign of Shaw’s interest in him.

“Yes, stay. We could get to know each other better,” Peter said enthusiastically and grabbed Sameen’s other hand. She stood there; someone attached to both of her hands.

“Shaw? Listen to me very carefully,” Fusco said in her earpiece. “This is not a joke. I have it on good authority that you are the only one who can do something to save this.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Sameen whispered because everyone else was either in her ear, across the room, or having a meltdown.

Then Fusco repeated slowly and very carefully what John told Joss the problem was with Root.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Shaw asked as Root pulled her and Peter begged them to stay.

But Fusco wasn’t kidding and Sameen knew she had to do something right away or this whole thing would fall apart. The sigh she released could be heard loud and clear in the van. “I freaking don’t believe this,” she mumbled as she decided she had no other choice.

“Root!” she said in a very stern tone to get her attention and pulled free of both captors. Root stopped and looked right at Sameen who mustered up every ounce of patience. Peter watched as the bodyguard closed the distance between them. Shaw did her best flirtatious expression, looking into her boss’ eyes and said in a breathy tone – “Please?”

Peter was quite taken with how coy the shorter woman sounded. “Yeah, please stay,” he added.

It was a tempting request, and Root did have to admit, Sameen’s voice made her melt. “I don’t know,” Root said, looking away so as not to give into those puppy-dog eyes Shaw was making.

“Do something, Shaw! For the love of God, make her stay!” Fusco yelled into her earpiece, causing a pain inside Shaw’s head.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she said and decided she couldn’t wait for Root to make up her mind.

Shaw grabbed Root by the shoulders, pulled her in, and kissed her.

Hard.

For Root, the sensation of those full, soft lips pressing onto hers with such force made the room go silent, as all she could hear was their breathing. Her head felt light and her lips tingled as she tasted Shaw’s lipstick. Her whole body rallied and responded to getting her wish.

“We can’t hear anything over Shaw’s heartbeat,” Fusco yelled into everyone’s earpieces.

“I bet I know why,” Joss said, having witnessed what happened. “That was amazing.”

John looked over at Root and could sense how affected she was. “Good job, Shaw,” he whispered.


	25. Four Servings of Fruit

When Sameen Shaw was awarded the Medal of Honor, she tried to decline. Her Commanding Officer told her that he had never heard of such insolence and ordered her to appear so that the President could award her the medal. Sure, she had saved a platoon of her fellow marines, but Shaw still didn’t think she deserved it. It bothered her that she felt nothing about her actions, or the recognition.

She was simply doing what was necessary.

* * *

Shaw released Root from that kiss and stood back, pursing her lips and shaking her head as if to say – ‘that’s that’. Root was stunned. And smitten. And over the moon. Even from across the room, Joss Carter could see what happened and appropriately called it – “The fall heard round the world.”

“So, can we stay?” Shaw finally asked, hoping this got things back on track. She just didn’t realize how that kiss derailed most of Root’s logical thinking.

“I told you we make a good team,” Root all but giggled.

“Maybe you’re recruiting for new members,” Peter said in a thick accent and Shaw turned to look at him incredulously.

“Easy, Shaw, please,” Fusco whispered and motioned for a second bottle of cold water. There was dead silence in the van as the men watched the close encounter of the fantasy kind.

“Okay, we need to iron out a few details, right?” Shaw said, slowly turning to look at Root, her large brown eyes begging her to reconnect with this guy.

Root could tell that Shaw was trying to keep the mission going and she understood that. But the brilliant inventor wasn’t going to play nice. “Yes, details,” Root finally said and her tone was friendly. Shaw exhaled a sigh of relief.

“Good,” Peter said and put his glass down. “Why don’t we go to my suite upstairs and talk about them?”

“Not so fast,” Root said and Fusco groaned in Shaw’s ear.

“You are a very peculiar woman,” Peter assessed, and it was obvious he was getting impatient.

Root-did-not-care.

Shaw couldn’t help but notice the dramatic change in Root’s tone. It went from sing-song sweet to downright dripping with warning. “Shaw’s mine,” she said, and Sameen swore she saw Root lean into him and stare him right in the eye. Then, as if demonstrating what she meant, Root reached out and grabbed Shaw’s wrist tightly.

Root didn’t flinch; Peter didn’t move; Shaw stood there – her eyes darting back and forth.

“Oh, oh,” Fusco said as he heard and viewed what Shaw saw. “Does Captain Good Looking have any other ideas?” he asked Joss.

“O….kay then,” Shaw finally said and smiled as Root held onto her. “Not going anywhere, Root,” Sameen tried, but Root wasn’t letting go.

Peter Yogorov knew a serious woman when he saw her and the prospective client was dead solemn. Still, he tested the waters. “Are you saying you’ll walk away if I don’t agree?”

“I already did,” Root reminded him.

Shaw was trying to act like having an overprotective girlfriend was nothing new to her, but she was struggling with the numbness that was starting to rise up her arm. Root’s grip was unwavering. “Uhm, honey?” Shaw said and now every man in the van scooted over to see Fusco’s screen. Shaw playing it sweet was worth it. “Do you think…?”

“Okay, okay,” Peter laughed and patted Shaw on the shoulder. “She’s a tough cookie, your lover,” he said, knowing when to fold.

“Yeah, a real peach,” Shaw said, unable to pry Root’s fingers off her wrist.

Root had made multi-million dollar deals that felt less victorious than openly declaring Sameen was hers. “Shall we?” she asked and finally let go of Shaw’s wrist.

“Are you sure you don’t want to affix the ball and chain?” Shaw asked, rubbing her wrist, and only then realizing her faux pas.

“Good one, Shaw,” Fusco said as the van erupted in laughter. They were going to have to buy that woman a beer.

“Sa-meen,” Root said in her usual friendly lilt, “You of all people should remember I have a thing for zip-ties.”

 _Did this woman have an answer for everything?_ “Don’t,” Shaw said into her bra as a warning. “Just….don’t.” Now the entire van was suppressing their laughter.

“Lionel,” Joss interrupted him. “We have confirmation that the Bear is out of the woods. We will follow.” This was code that Joss and John would go up to their room – which was next to Peter’s suite.

* * *

“Hey, Groves,” Peter called to her as they entered the elevator. “Since you have your favorite pet, you won’t mind if I bring a few of my own, “ he said and held the door as four of his henchmen joined them.

“You know what they say,” Root countered, “Three’s company, but seven is a party.”

Shaw groaned at the bad joke, although she had to admire that Root seemed to have a comeback for everything.

Peter led them into the large suite upstairs. “Nice room. You have a minibar?” Shaw asked, because those hors d’oeuvres had not filled her up.

“You eat like a man,” Peter said, and snapped his fingers for one of his large men to get the fruit basket.

“Fruit?” Shaw frowned.

“I’ll tell you what. Order room service,” the man said and handed Shaw the menu.

“That’s right, you order whatever you like,” Root suggested and dialed the phone herself.

“You two are very needy, “ Peter complained as Shaw ordered food.

Peter finally got very serious and started to talk to Root about her possible options. “What is it that you can’t move through ordinary channels?” he asked and Shaw realized they hadn’t exactly provided her with a script. Not that it would have worked.  
“Gambling programs,” Root said, without skipping a beat.

“Pfft,” Peter said and laughed. “Big deal. It helps you count cards?”

“On a contact lens,” Root added and he shut up. “Pop it in, go to a casino, and play a few hands of high stakes poker.”

The fact that Peter’s organized crime family needed ways to make money for their drug trafficking made this an interesting deal. “So you put one in, win, they check your eyes, you busted.”

“They dissolve,” Root said and much to Shaw’s surprise produced a pair from her pocketbook.

“She came prepared,” Shaw whispered to Lionel.

“We want fifty percent,” Peter said and Root smiled and tilted her head.

“You can have twenty,” she countered and now the police were getting nervous that Root’s hard ball play would cost them. Root knew she couldn’t be too eager so she pretend that this was a real deal she was about to strike.

“You’re crazy. I’m not allowing your contacts to be pushed through my channels for piddling’s,” he spat out.

“You really don’t hear anyone use that word anymore,” Shaw said, biting into an apple.

“How about my guys convince you this isn’t a good idea,” Peter threatened and his demeanor was very severe.

“How about I tell you Sameen could take them without any trouble,” Root said, with a smirk on her face.

Shaw choked on the piece of apple she was swallowing. “Okay, Root, honey, I think you’re exaggerating my abilities here,” Shaw laughed as she grabbed Root’s arm. “She gave me a gym membership and thinks she’s seen some improvements,” Shaw laughed and it was the most exaggerated laugh Lionel ever heard.

“Don’t be modest, Sameen,” Root countered.

“What do you need this money for? You’re filthy rich,” Peter asked Root.

“I just donated five hundred IPads in Africa. A girl can’t keep contributing everything without making a little pocket money for ….,” and she raised her eyebrow and looked at Sameen, “…things.”

“So the lens, counts the cards?” Peter asked for clarification.

“Yes,” Root answered.

“”Forty percent,” he negotiated and Root agreed.

“Now, Peter, I know your reputation for excellent customer service,” Root said in a sweet voice. “But Sameen, here, is the nervous sort. She’s worried that, oh I don’t know, someone might talk, or give my invention to the wrong people.”

“Excuse me?” Shaw said, because she was never nervous.

“Shaw, easy,” Lionel whispered because he could see that Root was trying to get Peter to spill the beans.

“Look, I have very dedicated men and women who work for me. If someone is less than dedicated, we remove them,” Peter said.

“With all due respect, Sameen thinks …,” Root said, rolling her eyes and grimacing for affect,”…your guys are easy. You know, because even she could take any one of your …what do you call them? Bodyguards?”

Now all four men burst out laughing. “Look at her!” Peter said between bursts of laughter. She’s worried we don’t know how to take care of issues?”

Shaw thought she understood what Root’s taunting was supposed to do, but she was just making them laugh. Sameen had to do something. She put the apple down, removed her high heels and twisted her neck right, then left. Then she kicked the back of the knee of the guy closest to her, and when he fell, she elbowed him in the back, sending him reeling over on the floor.

“That’s one,” Root said smiling at Peter, who sat there surprised at the outcome. “Who’s next?”

Peter wasn’t laughing now that the petite woman had managed to knock his man over and her girlfriend was gloating. “You’re messing with the wrong people,” he yelled at Root.

“Oh, no, I think you’re the right people,” Root said – and meant it. “….Sameen thinks you’re the ‘soft’ people.”

Perhaps it was Samantha’s calm dismissive manner that insulted the man, but he knew he had to convince her that his operation could handle problems. “Since I arrived in New York, Ms. Groves, three people have questioned my capabilities. Do you know where they are now?”

Root shook her head like she really didn’t know.

“I had them killed,” Peter shared.

“What, like three homeless people?” Root scoffed because she was very exact.

“Three people from the Brotherhood gang who got in my way,” Peter said. “My men took care of them. They’re dead. I had them killed.”

‘Well, I don’t know about you Sameen, but I’m convinced,” Root said and Peter smiled.

* * *

The knock at the door signaled Room Service and when they let him in; he identified himself as NYPD Task Force and pulled his gun. Peter’s bodyguards garnished their weapons and started shooting. Root grabbed Sameen to hide behind the couch.

“This is why I needed my weapon!” Shaw said, crouched down with Root.

Root reached up for the fruit basket and pulled it down between them.

“She’s not going to offer you fruit, is she?” Lionel asked and assured Shaw help was on the way. Help was Joss Carter and John Reese and they were trading bullets from the doorway now with the henchmen.

“Really?” Shaw said when Root started to pull the fruit basket apart. “You’re hungry now?”

“Did you know that you should have at least four servings of fruit a day?” Root asked in all seriousness.

“You say the sweetest things,” Shaw said, trying to figure out who was winning as bullets flew overhead.

Root was familiar with the fruit basket because she had it sent herself and it had been specially prepared. In the base of it were two Glocks. She handed one to Shaw. “Ready?”

“You cannot fire yours!” Shaw demanded. “Do not….”

But Root was already standing, shooting the man in the kneecap as he was about to shoot Joss.

“You sonova bitch,” Peter yelled when he saw Root armed and aimed his gun at her.

Shaw took one shot and dropped him. She was doing what was necessary.

“Please tell me she has a license for that gun?” Lionel pleaded in the phone when it was certain the men were subdued. “Do you know what kind of paperwork I’m gonna have to do to explain why two civilians were carrying guns?” Lionel moaned into Shaw’s ear.

  
“Lionel says thank you,” Sameen said to Root.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you your words of encouragement. For those of you who know me from my B&W Heir Series, you know it doesn't take much to keep me writing. I write a chapter a day - so forgive this chapter's plot if it's thin. Read and welcome all your comments. Many thanks.


	26. Just Desserts

The last thing that Peter Yogorov yelled as the police hauled him away in cuffs was that he knew people, and as long as he did, Root wasn’t safe. Most people would take that threat seriously; Root took it as good news. If she were in any danger, she definitely needed security twenty-four seven.

“Good work,” John said when the backup arrived and the men were taken out by the police.

“Thanks,” Shaw said because she could tell he was serious.

“This is Detective Carter,” he said, introducing her to the two women.

Carter was pretty impressed with the shooting she just witnessed. “I want to thank you,” she said to Root, “….for your quick action. But, please tell me I’m gonna find that both of you have licenses and good explanations as to why you were both armed.”

Shaw tended to answer a question she was asked; blame her military training. Root tended to give the answer to the question she wanted you to ask; blame her genius.

“Well, I have a license…,” Sameen started, but Root put her finger up to caution her. Then she unceremoniously reached out and pressed the dead center of Shaw’s bra to disconnect the wire. John’s eyes grew wide and he wasn’t sure where to look.

“We can keep this among us girls for now,” Root said and knew that irked John. “If you’re asking us if we found two guns that probably belong to Mr. Yogorov’s security men, then yes, we found them. The serial numbers appear to be filed off, oddly enough,” Root said and smiled.

Joss was smart enough to know when she was being fed a line. “So, you’re suggesting there’s no way to trace those guns?”

“Oh, I have no idea,” Root smiled.

“And Ms. Groves, you possess a firearm license? You know, in case I wanted to know,” Joss asked.

“Yes, Mr. Reese taught me himself,” Root explained.

“Wow,” Shaw said. “And you still managed to hit a target.”

John just turned to look at Root. He was almost certain she had something to do with those two guns appearing.

“Okay, if you’ll come to the station to give us your statements,” Joss said. “Thank you both.”

When the wire was shut off, Fusco made it his business to make his way up to the suite to thank the women in person. “Well, I never thought I’d hear myself say this, Ms. Groves, but you did a great job. We expected as much from Shaw, but you really got ‘em.”

“Did you hear her say I was nervous? Did you hear her say that I could take these three ginormous bodyguards at once?” Shaw said defensively, following the breadcrumbs Lionel planted on purpose. “Have you ever in your entire life seen me nervous?” she ranted. “For the record,” she continued, now turning to Root to include her in the discussion, “…..I don’t do nervous.”

“No, of course not,” John said, appeasing the woman.

“Duly noted,” Joss said, only learning about Sameen, but noticing how defensive she was.

Then Shaw turned to Lionel, who should have known better than to say anything to contradict her. “How come your heartbeat was racing then?” The question, of course, made Sameen’s blood pressure go through the roof.

“This is the last time I save your sorry ass, okay?” Shaw said and no one believed her.

Knowing how undiplomatic her fellow detective could be, Joss decided to intervene. “Well, I think NYPD owes you both a debt of gratitude. That whole thing that you came up with worked like a charm,” she said to Root and Shaw. “You guys make a good team.”

Root was beaming at the detective’s suggestion.

Then the group started to walk out so forensics could do their work. As soon as Shaw passed the cart on wheels that the undercover cop posing as the waiter delivered, she picked up the tray cover. Empty.

“I thought you ordered me food?” she said to Root, forgetting that it was the way the task force officer was getting into the room.

“That was just a ruse,” Root said, gently.

“Don’t ever use food as a decoy,” she pointed her finger at the group. “Not cool.”

“I’ll buy you ….,” Joss was saying when Fusco cut her off.

“A beer, Detective Carter will buy you a beer,” he said and whispered to Joss – “I know what you make, Carter, and you can’t afford her appetite.”

“I heard that Lionel,” Shaw said, not amused.

“So, this is where the party is,” Zoe Morgan said, coming across her friends as she left one of the other suites.

“This definitely looks like a party to me,” Root said, not wanting the night to end.

She needn’t worry.

* * *

When the women graciously went to the station to give their statements, for the record, the force gathered near the room where Root and Shaw sat. “That’s when we found the guns they must have hidden,” Root said and Shaw, impressed with how quickly her boss came up with this, nodded her affirmation.

“Thank you, Ms. Groves, Ms. Shaw, for helping us out on this one,” the head of the task force said and everyone got up to leave. “Oh, one more thing,” the man said. “We’ll need the wire as evidence and to make sure it wasn’t tampered with.” The man, of course, had no way of knowing where the device was since he wasn’t in the van.

“Oh,” Root said, looking at Sameen apologetically. “Can we send that to you?”

“I’m sorry, we need it for evidence. Gotta make sure it’s not tampered with,” the man explained.

“It’s …uhm…rather well hidden,” Root explained as Shaw tried to figure out how she was going to give it back.

“Oh!” the officer said, getting the idea that it was hidden beneath clothes. “I’ll step outside.”

Alone in the room that usually was used for interrogations, Root immediately made sure there was no camera on. “Okay, Sameen,” she said and started to offer assistance.

“Tell me this thing just comes out of this …,” Sameen said, stepping backwards.

“I’m sorry, Sweetie. I had it sewn in, just in case they wanted to check you,” Root said. “It was my first time doing this.”

Shaw rolled her eyes, shook her head in disbelief as she reached around the back of her dress, unsnapped the garment and pulled it off. “I am never letting you near my underwear again,” Shaw said as she handed it back to Root.

Suddenly, the women heard loud coughing and stammering as the men who were behind the glass mirror made a b-line back to their desks.

“Really?” Shaw commented.

* * *

When the task force officer explained that he was waiting, John Reese realized what that meant and was waiting at the door with his jacket.

“Shaw?” he said, but couldn’t bring himself to actually look at her. The dress did its job of covering Shaw up, but just knowing what was missing made the man unable to look.

“Let’s go to dinner,” Root said, putting John’s coat over Sameen’s shoulders.

“Eyes on me!” Fusco shouted to the men in the bull pen as Shaw walked through. He was very protective. Root liked that about Lionel.

“I want my Nano back,” Shaw told Lionel.

“You have the Nano?” Joss asked with envy. “I’ve always wanted one of those.”

“You can borrow it, anytime,” Shaw offered and then reminded her friend it was his duty to get it back for her.

* * *

The group headed out to a nearby restaurant. When the Maître D’ saw it was Samantha Groves, he made sure their best table was available.

Shaw watched as John Reese interacted with both Zoe Morgan and Joss Carter. Root watched Shaw watching them. Everyone else watched Shaw eat. “What?” she asked when all eyes fell on her. “I’m hungry!”

It was finally time to leave. Lionel offered Carter a ride home; John offered Zoe a ride, but she noticed something at dinner that made her feel perhaps she should say no. Shaw saw it, too.

“Damn,” Lionel said. “I have to pick up Lee. Could you give Carter a lift?” he asked John.

“Are you sure?” Joss asked, explaining that she could get a cab. John was happy to do it.

“Hey, Shaw?” John called as he was getting to his car. “Don’t forget to report to Dr. Campbell tomorrow, first thing.”

“Who the hell is he?” Shaw asked.

“She,” John said. “Dr. Iris Campbell and she is our resident therapist. Anytime anyone in Security uses their weapon, they have to see her for clearance. I made your appointment for nine.” John was impressed with Shaw, but that didn’t mean he was going easy on her.

“Are you….is he….are you kidding me?” Shaw asked, looking at John and then at Root. “What about her?” she asked, pointing to Root.

“Only applies to security team,” John explained.

“What the hell?” Shaw said, demanding an answer.

“Company policy, Sweetie,” Root said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Who made that lame ass policy?” Shaw yelled.

“Harry did,” Root answered.

“No! I am not …I want to speak to the person in charge,” Shaw was ranting as John drove off. “See what you got me mixed up in?” she said, turning to Lionel.

“Hey, maybe if you didn’t text me to let John take Carter home, you could have discussed it with him,” Lionel said and bade them goodnight.

“This is what I get for doing him a favor,” Shaw complained. “I want my Nano, Fusco!” Shaw yelled and people turned to stare at her.

* * *

Root stood there watching her favorite bodyguard have a meltdown. Still learning how to deal with Shaw, she simply waited until she thought of something. “You know,” she said slowly as she walked them both to the waiting limo. “……you still have John’s jacket on.”

“Yeah?” Shaw said, nowhere near as devious as her boss.

“You could let Bear wear it for a while,” Root said, hoping Sameen would see that as just retaliation.

You only had to know John a short while to know the man was very particular about his clothing.

“Yes!” Shaw said, desperate to exact her revenge anyway she could.

You only had to know Root a short while to know – the woman’s plan meant Shaw would have to come back to her duplex.


	27. Two Peas in a Pod

It seemed to Sameen that everything her boss did, she did in a big way. The two women walked to Root’s duplex apartment, taking the elevator up to the Penthouse floor. “Please make yourself at home,” Root said as they entered the spacious living area with floor to ceiling windows. 

“Nothing about this place reminds me of home,” Sameen thought to herself as she looked and noticed two things - it was so large …and so clean. There wasn’t a thing out of place, and there were a lot of things! Artwork adorned the walls, electronics were everywhere, and computerized gadgets controlled everything. Sameen stood there looking out at the view of Manhattan.

“I can make it sunrise, if you prefer,” Root said and at the flip of a switch, the entire scene encased in the massive windows became a Manhattan sunrise. “Or sunset over Maui?” she asked and the view became the sun sinking below the water. Not a picture, but what appeared to be a live view.

Sameen just continued to look around and take it all in. Then she shut down. “Where’s Bear?” she asked. 

Root detected what was happening; she was becoming a quick study in all things Sameen. 

“Come into the kitchen,” Root said and Shaw followed her. Bear rushed at the two women, his nails making a noise on the tiled floor in the very large room, leaving the side of a young man. Root was very happy when the dog went right to Shaw and greeted her. Shaw kept staring at the man, instinctively putting her hand where her gun usually was, but of course, found none. 

Root noticed the motion. “How was tonight, Daan?” she asked the tall, slim man in the kitchen. 

“It was great!” he answered and Shaw could detect an accent. 

“Sameen, this is Daan; he’s Bear’s tutor,” Root said and yes, she was dead serious.

“Wait, what?” Shaw couldn’t help but ask. “I know I’m going to regret this,” she almost whispered to the dog. “But…tutor?” 

Root looked down at Bear who was still making a fuss over Shaw. “He’s been a little lax in his Dutch,” she whispered and Shaw swore Root didn’t want the dog to hear her. 

“He did beautifully tonight,” said the Dutch tutor.

Sameen tried to get her head around this. “Dean here is his …language..... tutor?” 

“It’s Da-an,” he emphasized and added – “Three times a week,” he said proudly. That correction of his name drew the man a harsh look that actually startled him. 

“Can’t wait to meet the SAT tutor,” Shaw said sarcastically because she was certain there was nothing normal about this. 

The tutor said goodnight, moving slowly around where Shaw was standing. “Nice jacket,” he smiled. 

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Shaw said, because he just reminded her why she came. She took John’s suit jacket off and rolled it up. “Come here, Bear,” she said, enticing the canine with the jacket. 

“Pak aan,” Root said, instructing the dog to take it, but Bear whimpered his confusion. “Maybe three times isn’t enough,” she pondered as she invited Shaw to sit down at the counter in the middle of the room. 

“I’m going out on a limb here,” Shaw said, and couldn’t believe she was even doing this, “But I’m guessing you…. or Bear….. have a chef?” 

“Bear’s chef only comes once a week. Isn’t that right Bear,” Root said, getting him all excited. “I gave mine the night off,” she said and opened the clear glass door refrigerator and perused their choices. “Penne ala vodka, chicken parmesan, or tiny meatballs in some kind of sauce,” she listed the choices. 

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Shaw answered and Root smiled. She took out the prepared dishes, heated them up according to the instructions, and poured them each a glass of wine. 

“So, you’re like some kind of tech genius, right?” Shaw started. “I mean, I know you are, but you have done really well.” 

Root was beginning to understand that she felt very differently when Shaw was alone with her, rather than when others were around. She was going to have to think of more ways to make that happen. “Sorry?” she said, lost in her own thoughts. “Yes, I have done okay. Harry really is the one who did all of this for me.” 

“What is his deal?” the usually suspicious Sameen asked. Her ability to trust no one really did come in handy in her line of work. 

“I was …an orphan,” Root said, the word still difficult to say even though she knew it wasn’t a bad reflection on her. She rarely ever told this story to anyone, but she wanted Sameen to know. “My mother died when I was young, my father, well I never knew him. So, I was passed around from bad foster care home to worse foster care home. Always ended the same,” Root reflected. “I’d hack into their computers, mess up their bank accounts or sell their identities and then they’d ask for me to be removed. Finally, I just removed myself and came to New York.” 

Root could tell that in spite of Sameen’s quiet demeanor, she was listening. 

“I became a hack for hire, living out of the NY Public Library by day, making myself at home in offices I’d break into at night. I’d hack information for people; they’d wire me money. It worked for a while,” Root said, refilling their glasses. 

“What happened?” Shaw asked.

“I hacked into Harold’s company’s server. I was bored,” Root laughed. “Hacking is a challenge. You never tire of it. Anyway, turns out Harry was pretty good at these things, too. He was the only one who I hacked who ever found me,” Root said, and it was easy to tell she said so with great admiration. 

“So you two are two peas in a pod?” Shaw asked, as her host got out dishes and silverware and set two place settings. 

There was something about that image that brought a smile to Root's face, although it had nothing to do with Harold. “We’re almost equals when it comes to the intellectual challenges of programming and design,” Root said. “He offered me a place to stay, a job when I finished school. There was something about him that I trusted.”

“It didn’t freak you out that an older guy was willing to take care of you?” Shaw asked because she suspected everyone. 

“Not Harry,” Root said as if that was all the explanation she had to give. It really was the truth; Harold Finch never posed any threat to Samantha. 

Root took the food out of the oven and placed it between them as they sat on opposite sides of the island. Root enjoyed looking at Sameen, especially when she was eating. “What about you, Sameen?” Root asked and knew it was a dangerous question. Dark eyes stared back at her while Sameen thought about her answer. 

“Oh, you know, parents died young, I lived with relatives, went to college and medical school, joined the marines and found I was good at that sort of thing. Did a stint with the CIA, then I retired,” Shaw summed up all the years she lived on earth between bites. The flippant tone was on purpose. 

Root knew she wasn’t going to get much more detail even if she asked. “Well, I’m glad you wound up with us,” she said sincerely. 

“Yeah, well I promised Fusco I’d give it a week,” Shaw slipped, petting the dog that put his head in her lap. 

“A week?” Root asked in disbelief and felt her heartbeat start racing. 

Shaw could see the disappointment in her boss’ face like she had just told her she was taking someone else to the prom. “It’s not personal,” Shaw explained, regretting the slip. “It’s just I don’t usually last too long in any one place.” She felt she should be honest with her employer. 

“Well,” Root said, filling her guest’s plate with more of the delicious food. “I’m going to have to do my best to convince you to stay longer.”

Root knew Sameen well enough to know the way to this woman’s heart was through her stomach. It also distracted her while Root thought of a dozen ways to make sure Sameen reached tenure in her job beyond a week. And with Peter Yogorov’s gang out there looking for Root, she was pretty sure she found reason number one Sameen would stay. 

All Root had to do was make sure they could find her.


	28. Nuts and Bolts

An hour or so into their meal, Sameen finally admitted she couldn’t eat another bite. “I would give that woman a raise,” she said of Root’s chef.

“There’s dessert,” Root said, trying to delay the inevitable.

“I gotta go,” Shaw said, getting up and smiling when she saw that Bear had been sleeping on John’s rolled up jacket. “Looks like I got what I came for,” she commented and Root couldn’t have been more disappointed.

“Go slow,” Root said and Sameen asked her if she said something, but she just smiled and shook her head.

“Hey, by the way,” Shaw said as Root walked her to the door, “That was …uhm….really good the way you played Peter. Good job.”

Praise from Sameen softened the blow of her not staying a little longer. “I keep telling you; we make a good team,” Root said…again.  "Besides, I think you really sealed the deal," and she was referring to the kiss.

Shaw watched as Root seemed to get lost in that thought.  “O..kay, bolt these doors,” Shaw said, even though she was certain there were electronic gadgets that would electrocute uninvited guests.

Out of a moment of sheer desperation, Root asked Shaw – “Text me when you get home?” Her stomach dropped at how needy and un-Shaw like that sounded. She quickly recouped by added, “I know it’s silly, just after everything tonight.”

Sameen frowned at the request, until she heard the explanation. “Sure,” she said and took John’s jacket and left.

“Damn!” Root chastised her request when the door was closed. Samantha Groves never did anything slowly, but she knew what any impulsive action could do around Sameen.

* * *

Shaw walked outside and remembered that she needed to pay Lionel back. Whistling for a cab, she got in and gave the guy the address. Thirty minutes later, and in spite of the late hour, she rang the doorbell of the house she had seen a couple of nights ago. It took a little convincing that she wasn’t insane, but finally the woman stood there, opening the door just a crack to hear what the stranger had to say. “So, I wanted to apologize for interrupting your date with Lionel the other night. He’s got me involved with some really crazy people and they had just kid….,” and then she heard how that would sound. “Kidded me….anyway, I needed to talk to Lionel and I was ….it was rude to interrupt your date, especially given the fact that by all signs, it was going well,” Shaw blathered on because she was trying to say something nice, and that never flowed smoothly.

“Are all of Lionel’s friends……like you?” the woman asked hesitantly.

“If you mean good looking and fast with a gun,” Shaw said, giving the question some thought, “….then, no.”

“He was…nice,” the woman who was on twenty first dates in the past year had do admit.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shaw said with her usual amount of impatience. “He really is a good guy. So, why don’t you call him tomorrow and suggest dinner?”

The chain was still across the door as Lionel’s date agreed that she would.

“Okay, good,” Shaw said, glad that this went so well. She started to walk down the front steps and decided to mention – “Oh, one more thing. Don’t do anything stupid, like take him for a ride or break his heart, okay? I know where you live.”

The door slammed so hard that it surprised Shaw. “What a nut job,” she muttered. “No wonder he likes her.”

* * *

Shaw had accomplished quite a bit for one day. She helped apprehend a murderer, matched Carter up with John, got something to pay back John with, fixed Lionel’s love life, and survived one more day at her job. She walked into her loft feeling quite satisfied. She remembered what her boss had asked her to do. She pushed the idea out of her head, but found it hard to completely dismiss it.

“Next, we’ll be passing notes,” she said as she typed one word under the pressure of complying with Root’s request. “Here,” it read and the smile of Root’s face was beaming when she received it.

“Good to be home,” Shaw said of her sanctuary where she could bury feelings and ignore nagging thoughts. But the satisfaction seemed to fade quickly and Shaw found that strange. Suddenly, she found her apartment felt different. Things, like the mess that never concerned her, suddenly irritated her. Something was making her feel this way, she decided. The additional furniture, curtains on the windows, her refrigerator stacked with food – seemed to be the cause.

Shaw wasn’t tuned into the fact that it might be more about the person responsible for all those things. She would have had to reflect on the emotional reason and she was not ready to do that. She figured if she removed the things that were annoying her; the feelings would simply go away.

For the next hour, Shaw emptied the food from her refrigerator and freezer and left an equal amount outside the doors of her neighbors. Then she knocked and hurried back to her place.

“What the hell, 3B,” one of them yelled, because it was after two AM.

“You’re welcome,” Shaw said, and this confirmed her belief that good deeds were a freaking waste of time. She was so exhausted, she took off the dress, put it back in the box from the expensive shop, and fell onto her bed. She’d remove the flowery sheets in the morning.

* * *

Uptown, Root was sound asleep, having talked her feelings through with Bear, who whined his affirmation that she was on the right track with Sameen. “You like her, too, don’t you?” Samantha asked and the usually quiet dog barked his answer loudly. Root decided she was going to keep doing little things to slowly offer her friendship to Shaw.

Like show up with breakfast the next morning and offer her a ride to work.

* * *

Sameen had a decent night’s sleep, but only because she was so exhausted. She had to get to work before nine if she had any chance of not having to go to the shrink. She took a shower, dried herself off, and then used the same towel to dry off her hair as she returned to her living space.

“Good morning, Sweetie,” Root said and Shaw quickly managed to get the towel in front of her before pushing back against the wall, out of shock.

“What the fuck, Root?” Shaw said and could feel her heartbeat as she held the towel against her.

“Oh, sorry,” Root said in so sweet a voice that Sameen found herself saying it was okay, even though it wasn’t.

“That …door was bolted!,” she pointed out.

“It was unlocked,” Root countered and then Shaw remembered her food deliveries, and that was the second thing that confirmed she shouldn’t have been so thoughtful. “I heard the water, so I just came in with the coffee and bagel,” Root offered and held up the bag.

Sameen was starving. “Okay, hold that…..” she said, backing into the bathroom so she could get dressed. Two minutes later, she emerged dressed in her usual dark pants and t-shirt ensemble. Root held out the wrapped bagel and Shaw ungraciously grabbed it. “Om not gowin to dat shink,” Shaw explained as she shoved the warm bagel and cream cheese into her mouth.

“Oh?” Root commented, taking the lid off the venti size coffee and handing it to Shaw.

“Real milk?” she asked before she would put her lips to it.

“Of course! Go cow or go home, I always say,” Root said and Shaw stopped what she was doing and looked at her. She swore she had uttered those same words.

She took a gulp of the coffee and finished getting ready. “Where’s Bear?” Sameen asked as they walked out the door, John’s jacket under her arm, and stopping to jiggle the lock to make sure.

“He likes to get to work early,” Root said without a hint that she was making that up.

“Hey, 3B, you got any sauce to go with this?” a large unshaven man called from down the hall as he stood there in his underwear. “I have bread left over.”

“You got bread?” a woman asked annoyed from across the hallway. “What the hell, 3B!”

“Never again,” Shaw said, as she gently pushed Root onto the elevator and gave them the finger.

“Your neighbors seem friendly,” Root said, not letting on that she saw what was in their hands.

* * *

“You giving any other employees a ride?” Sameen asked when she saw the driver and car waiting.

“Just my favorite one,” Root said, feeling particularly brave that morning. Shaw just shook her head, rolled her eyes at the silly things her boss said.

* * *

While Root and Sameen rode to work, Lionel decided to drop by to see John at work. “What brings you up here,” John asked noticing the detective seemed particularly antsy.

“I have Shaw’s gun from yesterday. Didn’t think she’d want me to bring it to her apartment,” he explained unconvincingly.

“Well, she should be here soon, I guess,” John said, not certain that she would show up for her appointment.

“How is she doing?” Fusco asked, but wouldn’t sit down.

“Shaw? Well, let’s see, she’s been tazed and kidnapped, shot at, gotten sick, involved in a sting operation, and she’s still here. So, I guess okay,” John listed. Lionel couldn’t look John in the eye and was pacing around. “Are you afraid she’s going to bite you?” John asked, thinking he was afraid.

“What?” Lionel snapped. “No, no …it’s…..something I was thinking about. With your boss,” he tried to explain, but that wasn’t enough to go on.

“Yeah?” John said, leaning back in the chair.

“She seems…..,” and the detective stopped. This was not a conversation he wanted to have, but it seemed necessary.

John waited, thinking that there were so many adjectives that could fill in that space. When Lionel couldn’t seem to select one, he started to guess. “Tall? Spirited? Impulsive? Single-minded?” John asked, trying to keep it polite.

None of them were what Lionel meant.

“Interested in Shaw!” Lionel finally blurted out in a whisper.

“Yeah?” John said, neither confirming nor denying it. He thought it interesting that his friend noticed, too.

“Never mind,” Lionel said, walking out. He struggled all morning with whether or not to ask John about this. He wanted to ask if he thought he should warn Root about playing with fire. Or in this case, a loaded nuclear weapon. “No good deed,” he said to himself when he saw Shaw get off the elevator.

* * *

“Good morning, Sameen,” her HR friend, Janine, said in a very sweet voice.

“Oh, hey. Thanks for yesterday,” Shaw said because the woman brought her ID to her. Fusco watched as the woman seemed to swoon over his friend. “You bring my gun?” Shaw asked him as soon as she saw him.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” Fusco replied. “Hey, Shaw, maybe you should ….I don’t know, wear a dress to work or something.” He was trying to figure out if Shaw’s tomboyish look was confusing the women at BEAR.

“What?” Shaw asked, completely confused.

“Here’s your Nano,” her friend said, convinced women were too complicated to help.

“Did you see Carter yet today?” Shaw asked, walking Lionel into the staff kitchen area and taking a donut. “Look, it’s like they knew you were coming,” she teased the cop.

“Very funny,” he said, taking a jelly donut. “Carter? No, why?”

Shaw looked outside the room to make sure no one was there. “I think she and Reese make a good couple.”

“I thought he and Zoe were…,” he tried to say, but was immediately dismissed.

“Lionel, you know nothing about chemistry,” Shaw criticized him. “Didn’t you see how Carter looked at him when they were talking? And Reese……. actually …..smiled,” she said with emphasis. “I’m telling you, Lionel, I know a thing or two about people who are attracted to one another.”

“You could tell all that, just by looking at them?” Lionel asked, testing his theory.

“Yep,” Shaw said, taking her second donut. “They are a match!”

Lionel listened to his friend describe the behaviors she believed confirmed her theory. She hadn’t listed one that he didn’t think he noticed in Samantha when she was around Shaw. “I didn’t think you noticed things like that, Shaw.”

“How could you not, Lionel? Really, you have got to pay closer attention,” Shaw said, finishing her donut.

“Yeah, I’ll do that, Shaw,” Lionel said and meant it. “What is that….all rolled up?” he asked, noticing the garment under her arm.

“Dis?” Shaw said, taking her third helping. “John’s jacket. I have to return it to him,” she said and held it by the collar to show Fusco how bad it was.

“Oh, is this impress your boss day?” he asked, wondering what her game was.

“Only if I have to see that shrink,” Shaw said, walking out.

* * *

Lionel watched his friend walk down to John’s office and noted how the HR woman stood up and watched Shaw’s every move. “You got good eye care coverage here?” he asked the woman.  
“Oh, yes!” she said proudly. “We have excellent coverage. Free exams once a year,” she explained.

“Good!” Lionel said. “You might want to set your friend up for one of those exams. She can’t see a thing.”

* * *

Sameen poked her head into John’s office. “So, who do I see about getting out of this stupid meeting with the shrink?” she asked.

“You don’t,” John said, not even looking up from his desk.

“In that case, I’m returning your jacket,” she said, and put it on the chair, rolled up in a ball.

“Thanks,” John said, too busy to see.

Sameen walked outside, taking her plea to a higher court – Harold, when she and the rest of the staff heard Reese yelling – SHAW!

“Mission accomplished,” Sameen said, making her way to Harold’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you guys are still reading! Many thanks. Love to hear your thoughts, but understand that I'm posting almost daily.


	29. Stick and Carrot, Heavy on the Mustard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll forgive my use of some of the great lines and things that are in Canon.  
> PS: Your chapter comments about Shaw had me laughing! Thanks.

Sameen’s military training taught her that if you wanted an exception made, going up the chain of command was the direction to take. After Reese wouldn’t excuse her from the mandatory therapy session, she decided Harold was next. His secretary tried to stop her from barging in, but Sameen gave her one long wink, and suddenly the woman halted her protest. “No wonder they have a full time shrink,” Sameen thought as she knocked and walked in.

Harold was experiencing more than his usual amount of anxiety that morning. He had been that way ever since Samantha had been shot at last night. The fact that it was a sting operation that she was a willing participant in brought him very little solace. The only thing about it that comforted him was that Sameen was with her. For that, he was grateful. Although, he feared Root participated simply because Sameen had volunteered.

“Harold?” Sameen said, walking over to him as he tried to figure out which thing on his desk he didn’t want her to touch the most.

“Miss Shaw! What a …surprise,” he said, deciding he wouldn’t say ‘ _pleasant_ ’ until he had more information.

When Shaw got closer, she saw the Daily News peeking out on his desk. The headline read “Brains and Brawn” with a picture of Root. “Nice picture,” she said and sat down.

Harold immediately noticed the crumbs of sugar from the donuts on her shirt. She caught where he was looking and said -‘Thanks’ – because she thought he was trying to tell her to wipe them off. Which she did, much to his horror; the crumbs falling on the carpet.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he asked, wondering why his secretary had not followed his explicit instructions. He told her anytime Sameen wanted to see him; she was to be escorted into the conference room where he would be more than happy to meet her.

“I need a note to get out of visiting the shrink this morning,” Sameen said.

“I’m sorry, Miss Shaw, but that requirement is a company policy. It’s really for your benefit that we do it,” Harold explained.

Sameen couldn’t hold back the scoff. “Are you serious? My benefit? Look, Harry, you probably get a lot of Walmart Security guards applying for jobs here, but I’m a marine, fully trained in firearms and hand to hand combat. You’ve seen me handle a weapon. I carry them for fun. I don’t think I’m your typical security person,” Sameen lectured, putting her feet up on the desk, hands behind her head as she waited for Harold to digest all of that and see her way.

“Of that I am certain,” Harold said, gently putting a pen on the top of her shoe and pushing her feet off. Her little speech had done nothing but convince him more she needed to go. “I really do feel that the requirement offers an advantage, and therefore, Miss Shaw,’ Harold said, wondering if John was close by, “I cannot grant your request.”

Shaw sat there taking that answer in and processing her possible responses. Anything with violence, of course, would only prove she needed to go. Then the oddest thing occurred to her and she almost hesitated to ask the question, but she was desperate. “By any chance, is Bear in charge of these decisions?” she asked, regretting it as soon as it escaped her lips. She wasn’t even drinking the Kool-Aid and she sounded wacky.

Harold thought she was being funny and laughed, much to Sameen’s relief. “I’m sure if he were, Miss Shaw, he would agree with me.”

“This is so not cool, Harold,” Sameen issued one final judgement.

“I hope you will see that a great deal of thought goes into our policies, Miss Shaw,” Harold tried one more time.

“Fine,” Shaw said, getting up and leaving.

Finch’s secretary, Diane, watched as Shaw huffed out of his office and down the hall to the therapist. “What did you do to upset her, Mr. Finch?” Diane said, handing Harold the mail for the day.

In all years the woman worked for him, she had never spoken to him in that tone. He immediately started to read up on studies of certain personality types and the effects they had on groups.

* * *

At 8:55 AM, Root made it her business to be in the vicinity of Dr. Campbell’s office. “So, if you could check that out for me,” she was asking a staff member in a cubicle just as Sameen approached. “Oh, hey,” she said smiling. Then she made a frown face when she saw how annoyed her favorite employee was. “No luck with Harry?” she asked sympathetically, walking with Shaw.

“I think Reese probably got to him first,” Shaw said, unable to understand how Harold could refuse her very reasonable request.

“Well, you have nothing to worry about, Sameen,” Root said encouragingly. And then proving she had a very good understanding of human behavior, in spite of her lack of a PhD in psychology, Samantha promised Shaw her favorite sandwich would be waiting when she was done.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shaw impulsively responded. “You can’t possible know …,” she added.

“ _Beatrice Lillie_ from Park’s Deli,” Root said before Shaw had finished her sentence.

“How the hell could you….?” Shaw asked, getting creeped out that her life was being pried open, one page at a time.

She stared at her boss who sheepishly admitted; “Your credit card bill was opened on the table in your apartment when you were …you know…sick. I noticed all your charges were for Park Deli.”

“Okay, we’re going to have to talk about some boundaries, okay?” Shaw demanded, and then added; “I’m not an open book.”

“Certainly, Sameen,” Root said, because she had already decided she was going to keep pushing at Shaw’s imaginary lines. Then to prove that Shaw was willing to bend the rule about boundaries, Root asked her; “What is on that sandwich….. again?” she asked, like she had forgotten. There was no - again. Root had no idea what was on it, but she was going to get Shaw to tell her, and thereby, give her permission to be tempted.

“Extra mustard; spicy and yellow, and pepperoncini, and for the love of God, no mayo. And you have to tell them because they’ll try to put it on there, I don’t know why they do that. I think to annoy me,” Shaw ranted, distracted by the offer of food.

“Sure, I’ll tell them,” Root smiled and it didn’t occur to either one of them that it was nowhere near lunchtime.

* * *

Sameen was inside the doctor’s waiting room before she realized she had just contradicted herself in a matter of minutes. What skill set did that woman possess that allowed her to completely distract her, Sameen thought? The secretary handed Sameen a clipboard with papers to fill out. “So not happening,” she said, handing it back to her.

* * *

Iris Campbell took her job very seriously. She had a PhD in behavioral psychology, with post doctorate experience in corporate psychotherapy. Her practice ran the gamut, from treating staff members who were depressed, to those with addictions, to those who simply needed a resource in seeking out therapy. There was little she hadn’t seen in all her time at BEAR. So, naturally, she expected that her nine o’clock appointment was a routine check on a security staff member who found it necessary to fire her weapon. It was rare, but it happened. And when it did, they usually just needed to talk through the experience to deal with it better.

“Thank you for coming in, Ms. Shaw,” Iris said when the patient walked in, flopped down on the leather couch, and exhaled loudly.

“Not like I had a choice,” Shaw said, her eyes scanning the woman’s office for food. There was none. Not even peppermint candies in wrappers in a jar on her desk. What kind of person didn’t have some obligatory snack for her patients?

“We like to speak to anyone who finds it necessary to use their weapon in the line of work as part of our due diligence to the company and to the rest of the staff,” Iris explained.

“Afraid we’ll get hooked and come back here shooting things up when we don’t get a raise?” Sameen mocked.

Iris smiled and picked up a pad and pen. “Do you mind if I write some notes?” she asked.

“You can doodle for all I care,” Shaw said, not meaning to sound mean, but her skin was starting to crawl. It wasn’t like she didn’t know what this was going to be like.

“So, tell me how you’re feeling,” the therapist asked and Shaw glared at her.

“Look, I don’t think I filled out any paperwork yet, so I’ll go easy on you,” Sameen said, sitting forward on the couch. “I have an Axis II Personality, self-diagnosed. You know I was a doctor, right?”

Iris flipped through the paper until she found it. “Yes, I did see that,” she answered from the few notes she found in Shaw’s personnel file.

“So, there’s little chance of you and I talking about…… _feelings_ ,” Shaw asserted.

“Okay, what would you like to talk about?” Iris asked, because she was more skilled at her job than Sameen was giving her credit for.

“I’d like to talk about you signing off whatever paper it is that I need to get out of here,” Shaw responded.

“I can do that,” Iris said, giving Shaw hope, “…..forty five minutes from now. So, you tell me what you’d like to discuss.”

Shaw rolled her eyes, sighed, and threw herself back on the couch. Her eyes darted around the room while she considered her answer. “I’d like to talk about the fact that you have no candy in your office. None. I mean, not even jelly beans or something that people might want in a stressful environment.”

_There! Take that Iris Campbell!_

“You find this a stressful environment?” Iris asked and caught Shaw off guard.

_Oh, you’re good, Iris, you’re very good. Well, Shaw wouldn’t make that mistake again!_

“You know, Axis II is often an adaptation disorder,” Iris said, knowing how close she was to setting her patient off.

“I _adapt_ just fine,” Shaw quipped.

“So, you’re doing well here?” Iris asked quickly, not giving Shaw too much time to think.

“Well, let’s see, I’ve been taz..,” and then she realized who she was saying this to. “Teased,” she changed it to. “And I’m still here.”

Even Shaw knew that sounded lame.

“What did they tease you about?” Iris naturally asked and Shaw groaned that they were following whatever she said.

“Okay, look, I didn’t want to have to tell you this, because, you know, you work here, but outside that door is the craziest bunch of people I have ever met in my life. So, I’m not surprised they have a full time shrink, because they have more issues than Vogue out there.”

“Give me one example,” Iris said, feeding Shaw slowly.

“One? One?” she repeated. “How do I choose? Harold has OCD, John is wound so tight, I think that’s why he never smiles. And Root?” Shaw said, hearing herself, but unable to stop educating this woman.

“Tell me about Root,” Iris said because Sameen had said that name differently than the others.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about my bosses,” Shaw said, smiling facetiously.

“You’re sharing your thoughts,” Iris pointed out.

“Fine,” Shaw said, thinking this was the only way to get out of this. “She’s …..very nice,” Sameen said and stopped, but Iris could tell she was still thinking.

“Nice and…..?” she prompted.

“She hovers. She wants to be friends; like BFF's or something. She discusses things… with… her…. dog,” Shaw said slowly to make sure the psychologist was getting this. “You don’t want to write that down?” she asked in disbelief. What was the point of the legal pad?

Iris didn’t write; she sat there very still, listening. Shaw thought maybe she was unconvinced. “And she’s acting kind of weird since I kissed her,” Sameen said, projecting her feelings so wide, they were practically splattered all over Iris’ wall.

“Tell me about kissing her,” Iris encouraged, because that was the one thing Shaw had said that wasn’t draped in sarcasm.

Contrary to what Sameen wanted the good doctor to believe about her inability to do feelings, that statement was said with a boatload of emotions.


	30. Too Many Chefs

While Sameen wrestled with Dr. Campbell’s questions, Root was already downtown, getting her favorite sandwich. She attempted to order the item by name, but the server started to make it the way they advertised it. “Let’s try this,” Samantha said to the very impatient woman. There was a line forming behind her now, as hungry workers stopped for breakfast items on their way to work.

“This is how it is made!” the woman demanded when Root said no to the first version.

“I’m ordering this for my friend. She’s this tall, beautiful dark eyes, long silky hair,” Root said, hoping Sameen’s description would provoke a memory.

“What do I care what she looks like?” the confused woman said. “Everyone gets the _Beatrice Lillie_ the same.”

“Not my friend,” Root insisted, not intimidated by the people complaining behind her. “So, let’s try this again,” she said because she was going to bring Shaw the sandwich the way she liked it or, someone was going to be out of business by refusing her.  
Then Samantha leaned on the counter, smiling her biggest smile and repeated the ingredients again. The woman relented when the crowd was yelling for their food orders and made the sandwich exactly as ordered. Samantha paid her and told her to keep the change of the one hundred dollar bill. She went back to her car and called Isabelle, her personal chef, and instructed her to meet her at BEAR.

* * *

Shaw was staring at Dr. Campbell, silence filling the room. The therapist was trained to tolerate the quiet because that’s when most people would talk about what was really going on. Sameen’s mind raced to figure out how to get out of this. She remembered she had her gun on her and only for a second did she think that was a good idea. Then her soldierly mind clicked. She was determined to put this woman in her place.

“I found it a necessary action given the fact that Ms. Groves was portraying us as a couple to the man whom the NYPD was hoping to get on record as the murderer for three recent homicides,” Shaw reported and the slightest smirk crossed her face as she sat back, proud of her delivery.

“I notice you said, _Ms. Groves_ , just now,” Iris noted and endured the glare. “So, you were playing your part?”

“Yeah, sure,” Shaw huffed, annoyed that the doctor seemed to regurgitate everything she said.

“But you think Ms. Groves may have taken this as something else?” Iris asked to clarify.

“See?” Shaw said immediately to prove her point, “…this is why SHE should have to come in, too. She used her weapon. She shot as many bullets as I did. Then you could ask her why she’s acting so weird.” The expression on Sameen’s face clearing indicated her total aggravation with having to do the therapist’s job for her.

“Sameen, can I ask you; do you think Ms. Groves' response to the interaction between you two is going to interfere with your job?” Iris asked in far too many words for Shaw’s liking. If Shaw was calmer, she might have seen through Iris’ question for what it really was.

“Are you asking me if she’s going to be less crazy? No!” Shaw snapped.

“I guess I’m wondering if you feel that your work relationship with Ms. Groves is compromised in any way because she may or may not have misinterpreted your kiss,” Iris laid it all out.

Shaw’s job was to protect the CEO of BEAR. Iris’ job was to assure that the staff members were sound enough to do their jobs. She was asking Shaw if her feelings for Root, or what she thought were Root’s feelings for her, were going to interfere.  
Shaw felt like words were being put in her mouth because the only term she had said that resembled anything this doctor said was - kiss. The doctor’s question had annoyed Shaw and now she experienced feelings and was busy trying to push them back down. “I can do my job without any interference from anyone. I know what my responsibilities are, Dr. Campbell.”

The tone of the woman was undeniably defensive and Iris realized she had touched a nerve.

The doctor knew she didn’t know Sameen well, and therefore, might not yet know the best way to speak with her. She was about to apologize when Sameen announced they were done.

“Ms. Shaw, I really do feel it important that we continue,” Iris said, as Sameen stood up, smiled and thanked her. Then she walked out the door, slamming it behind her. Iris let out a long puff of air, picked up the legal pad and wrote under “Recommendations” - “I believe the client would benefit from at least three more sessions.”

* * *

Given that Sameen’s true feelings hadn’t seen the light of day in decades, they were pushing at her hard to stay out. She kept telling herself that nothing good would come of tolerating this onslaught, and decided right then and there she needed to do something. What worked for Sameen on the rare occasion when this happened was an intensive physical workout.

“Where’s the gym?” she asked her trusted HR friend.

“Are you going to work out?” Janine asked, with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Well, the body I guard is nowhere to be found, so, yes,” Shaw said, and then realized she was talking to the woman whose clothes she once …shared. “You don’t have workout clothes …..?”

The question was no sooner out of her mouth, when Janine dove into her bottom desk draw and pulled out shorts and a t-shirt. “Here!” she said, shoving the apparel into Sameen’s hands. “The gym is on the fifteenth floor.”

“Great, thanks. I’ll get these back to you,” Shaw said, slowly backing away and going to the elevator. As the doors closed, she was almost certain she heard John calling for her.

* * *

Sameen got a locker, changed into her borrowed clothes and decided to see what this insane company called a gym. “I swear, if there’s a …..,” she said out loud referring to a hyper enthusiastic greeter that many gyms employed.

“HI SAMEEN!” the woman said from behind the desk when Shaw walked in.

“How the hell…?” Shaw said, looking behind her.

“Janine told us to expect you,” the woman said enthusiastically. “Now can I get you towels, a water?”

“Look, I don’t want to be rude,” Shaw said, as tempting as that might be, “…but I just wanted to do a little workout.”

“Sure, Sameen, sure,” the woman said, under explicit instructions from HR to provide Shaw with whatever she wanted.

“How is that shrink not walking the hallways?” she said as she went over to the weight room.

* * *

When Root returned to BEAR, she was told by the eager HR worker that Sameen was in the gym. She got on the elevator, brown bag in hand, and pressed the floor, just as Dr. Campbell got on.

“How are you, Ms. Groves?” she asked in a friendly manner.

“How did it go with Sameen?” Root asked, getting to the point.

“You know I can’t discuss anything that goes on,” Iris said, her voice pleasant because she was intrigued that Root would ask.

“Of course not,” Root said as the elevator door opened on her floor. “I feel it necessary to share,” the CEO said in a definite tone with the therapist, “…..that I do not wish Ms. Shaw to be upset by this process. Under any circumstances. Have a nice day, Dr. Campbell.”

There was no mistaking what her boss meant.

* * *

Having made herself clear, Root next texted the chef where to meet her. Then, she quietly slipped into the gym via a side entrance that left her right near the weight room. She walked quietly along the wall, undetected, as she watched her favorite employee work out. The CEO rarely visited the gym, preferring to do her aerobic exercises outside in the fresh air. But watching the toned muscles of her bodyguard lift and then drop weights was changing her mind.

“Oh, hi, Ms. Groves,” Martine said, walking into the gym and noticing her boss immediately.

“Hello, Ms. Rousseau,” Root said, never diverting her eyes.

“How’s your new bodyguard working out?” Martine asked with great interest.

“She’s working out just beautifully,” Root said warmly and her tone confused the other woman.

Martine said goodbye, but her boss never looked her way. The short exchange did nothing to improve her feelings about Shaw.

Sameen pushed herself to lift the heavy weights and then the barbell until her head swelled with pain. Better pain then the nagging questions and thoughts she had after leaving Dr. Campbell’s office. She was glowing with perspiration, the stray strands of her hair stuck to her face.

Root waved the bag when Sameen looked over.

“You really keep your word,” Shaw said, taking a long drink of water from the bottle the greeter ran in to give her.

“Campfire Girl Promise,” Root said, giving the salute. “Oh, and this is Isabelle,” she said to Sameen. Then she opened the bag and Sameen grabbed the wrapped sandwich.

“Thanks,” she said and sat down to dive in. With her mouth now full of the perfect ingredients, Shaw asked Root why the woman was there. “Health Inspector?”

Samantha loved Shaw’s sense of humor. “No, silly,” was all she replied.

There was never a straight answer from this woman.

Shaw stopped mid-bite when she noticed Isabelle was leaning in to see what the sandwich was made of.

“Pepperoncini?” the woman asked with great interest.

“Yes, and both mustards,” Root added.

“What the ….,” Shaw said when she realized they were both watching her.

“Oh, Sameen, Isabelle is my chef. I’ve asked her to take a look at the Beatrice Lillie, in hopes of being able to replicate it for you any time you want,” Root said, proud of her ingenious idea.

‘ _No, no, no_!’ Shaw’s inside voice yelled, but her mouth was too full to utter anything. She smiled with her eyes, so as not to hurt her boss’ feelings.

“I have a meeting upstairs,” Root said, handing Shaw a napkin and smiling. “I’ll see you later.” Then she and the chef left together as Root suggested she get the leanest cuts of pastrami she could.

Shaw shoved the rest of the sandwich in her mouth and groaned. Not the usual groan of satisfaction from the delicious food, but out of frustration that she had to hurry. She rolled up the paper and bag, threw it in the garbage and went back upstairs. She didn’t even stop to shower, even though she needed it. She knew what she had to do and nothing was going to get in her way.

Except John.

“Hey, Shaw,” he said, finally finding her.

“Look Reese, I’d love stay and talk about how Bear loves your taste in clothing, but I have to run,” Shaw said.

He knew what Sameen had done to his jacket and was wondering what he could do to get her back, when Dr. Campbell’s recommendation came across his desk. He couldn’t think of a better punishment for Shaw than more therapy visits.  
“I’m sorry to tell you, Shaw,” he fibbed, “…..Dr. Campbell recommended that you see her again.”

He stopped and waited for what he thought would be one of Shaw’s tirades. He figured he’d let her stew long enough over that news, and then inform her that the security team sticks together and he would see what he could do to get her sentence shortened. He understood Shaw’s distaste for touchy-feely stuff.

Instead, he heard this –

“Good, because I want to see her, too.”

John did a double take – which was unheard of since his inherent coolness caused him to react to very little. He watched in amazement as Sameen ran down the hall.

* * *

  
Seconds later, she was in the waiting area of Dr. Campbell. “You can’t go in there,” her assistant yelled as Sameen went straight to the door and barged in.

Iris jumped in her seat behind her desk, where she was enjoying a multi-grain bagel – dry.

“You were right!” Shaw said, pacing the room now. “My work relationship is going to be totally ruined.”  
Iris slowly put down her food, ready to listen to the woman who blew her off just a short time ago.

“Did Ms. Groves do something?” Iris asked, wondering what changed Sameen’s mind to talk.

“It’s what she wants to do!” Shaw said exasperated, sitting back down on the couch she swore she would never sit on again.

“Can you say more?” Iris asked, grabbing her pad and sitting across from her newest client.

“She’s going to ruin the _Beatrice Lillie_!”


	31. An Acquired Taste

Iris always jotted down key words or phrases that the client said during a session. “ _Portrayed us as a couple_ ,” was what she scribbled down after Sameen stormed out. For some reason, that impressed her. She wondered if Samantha and Shaw planned that in advance or was it a spur of the moment. It sounded spontaneous, based on what Sameen told her. Now Iris wondered about that kiss. In the very short time Sameen was in her office, she was the most animated when she talked about her boss.  
“Is Beatrice Lillie on staff? That name sounds familiar,” Iris inquired.

“What?” Shaw said, only now getting how she had stormed into the office. “No, it’s …okay, look, it’s ….we’re talking about …..food.”

“Are we?” Iris asked because…… she was good.

“Of course we are! This is an example of ….of….Root…..acting weird. Like you asked,” Shaw said, desperately trying to convince one of them this was what Iris asked for. The slightest raise of an eyebrow that Iris couldn’t hide irritated Shaw. “Look!” she said, feeling she had already extended this woman more patience than she usually did annoying people, “You asked if I thought I could still do my job because Root misunderstood, right? Shaw asked exasperated.

“I did,” Iris confirmed.

“Okay then,” Shaw declared, rolling her eyes and feeling like ‘baby steps’ couldn’t begin to describe how slow this woman made simple connections. “Well, I’m here to tell you that she is going to do something. You know, you might actually want to write some of this down, because I’m thinking a little help in the memory department might be beneficial.”

“You want me to write this down,” Iris repeated to be clear.

Shaw bit her lip, looked away and thought how easily she could snap this woman in two. She drew in a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to give you an example of something that Root is going to do that will hinder me doing my job.” Then Shaw stopped to see if the PhD could follow that.

“With Beatrice Lillie,” Iris said, trying to let Sameen know she was listening.

“ _THE_ Beatrice…it’s a sandwich; not a person,” Shaw explained and swore she sore a tiny little light bulb go off over Iris’ head.

“What is she going to do?” Iris asked, truly unable to even imagine.

“She brought me one this morning after I stormed…left…… your office. It was very nice because I think she thought I’d actually do this therapy thing if she got it for me. Anyway, I went to work out after I left here because that’s what I do when I get aggravated and it was working beautifully until Root showed up with the sandwich and brought….you might want to jot this down …… HER CHEF!” Shaw said loudly, throwing her hands up in the air. Then she shuddered, put her index finger up to warn the woman and said – “Do not say – ‘ _Her chef_?’”

That was the last question on Iris’ mind. “Continue, please,” she said as she wrote – “Shaw left first session - aggravated.”

“I should have known it was her chef because she practically had her head in my food, trying to see what the ingredients were,” Shaw said, annoyed at herself.

“Okay,” Iris said, writing something down.

Shaw was very pleased the woman was finally catching on how best to do this. “She was doing that because Root wants her to ……,” and she stopped to make sure Iris was looking right at her. “……duplicate it …anytime… I …want.” With that, Sameen sat back like she had just delivered everything the psychologist needed to take action.

Iris reflected for a moment because Shaw, indeed, had just shared a great deal. She knew she’d have to be particularly gentle in guiding Sameen to the real issues. “Why do you think Samantha would go to all that trouble?”

“To drive me insane? So that I’ll be like the rest of you crazy people? No offense, Doc,” she quickly added.

“None taken,” Iris assured her. “Are you concerned that Isabelle, the chef, won’t make it the way you like it?”

“Isabelle can’t make it the way I like it. Root doesn’t get it,” Shaw complained.

“What isn’t Root getting, Sameen?” Iris asked quietly.

“It’s like …when the put wild animals in captivity,” Shaw started, desperately trying to come up with an analogy. “And provide them with food, right? You hand feed them; they lose their animal instincts to hunt. Part of getting the sandwich at Parks Deli is the struggle I go through to get it right. The woman knows the way I like it, but absolutely refuses to remember, so we go through this whole ritual where we are practically screaming at each other until she …you know….gives …in,” Shaw said, slowing down because of the expression on Iris’ face. “It won’t taste the same if a private chef is picking out lean cuts of meat and …..see?”

“Sounds to me like you feel you have to fight for everything?” Iris asked.

“I don’t have to; I want to!” Shaw said, wondering how this woman made a living doing this.

“And Samantha isn’t making you fight, she’s giving it to you,” Iris surmised.

“She…..bought……me……CURTAINS!!!” Shaw said, thinking that would make her feelings perfectly clear.

Shaw was coming through loud and clear alright. “Have you ….told Samantha …how you feel about this?” Iris asked.

Shaw scoffed and shook her head. “Isn’t this what you do? Aren’t you like the communications expert? Helping couples get through to one another?” Shaw wondered why she had to spell everything out.

“Do you think of you and Samantha as a couple?” Iris asked because she felt it was important to point out the words Shaw was using….to Shaw.

“Yes, we’re a couple. I mean a work couple. We’re together; we’re two people who work together,” Shaw tried to unravel what she had just spun.

“Sameen, it sounds to me like Samantha is extending you some courtesies because she wants to be friends,” Iris suggested, thinking back to Root’s warning that she didn’t want Shaw upset.

“Friends don’t screw up other friends’ sandwiches,” Shaw shot back.

“Then you have to tell her,” Iris said, putting the pen down on the pad in her lap.

“Tell Root?” Shaw laughed. “Does anyone tell that woman anything that she listens to? She’s the most spoiled adult I have ever seen in my life!”

“I think she’ll listen……to you, Sameen,” Iris said.

Shaw stared so hard at Iris that, for the first time, the therapist broke eye contact for a second. Shaw was intimidating, she’d give her that. “Fine,” Shaw finally said, rolling her eyes. “I should have just killed her when I had the chance,” she murmured and then realized to whom she was sharing that thought with. “Don’t write that down.”

Iris smiled because she wasn’t going to write it down, but she wasn’t going to forget it.

Shaw needed time to figure out what had really happened with Iris just now, but she issued her warning just to be sure. “This changes nothing,” Sameen said, in case the therapist was under the misguided notion she was coming back.

“Okay, Sameen,” Iris said, irritating the life out of the new employee.

Iris suspected that Sameen did her best work when she was vexed.

* * *

Root sat behind her large desk after her meeting thinking about her favorite subject; Shaw. She was aware how she seemed to go into protective mode whenever anyone did anything to upset her. It was obvious that Sameen was more than capable of taking care of herself except, maybe, for her diet. But Root saw something underneath that tough exterior that made her feel like she wanted to take care of Shaw. While others were put off by the grouchiness, Samantha saw the vulnerabilities underneath.

Perhaps because she shared some of them.

As if sensing someone was even considering being nice to her, Shaw burst through Root’s office door. “Okay, we have to talk.”

Like the smitten, love sick puppy Root felt like whenever she saw Sameen, she sat at attention and said – “Sure!”

“I saw that shrink that Harold insisted I see and we talked,” Shaw said as she walked back and forth in front of Root’s large desk, trying to collect her thoughts.

“Did she upset you?” Root slipped, not yet able to control how fast she skidded into a defending manner.

“Of course, she did, I mean she’s supposed to in some kind of twisted way,” Shaw said, looking up at the ceiling and recalling her rotation in psychiatry. After her time was complete, her supervisor told her never to work a suicide hotline. “Anyway, look I appreciate the whole chef making sandwich thing, but ….no.”

In Sameen’s world, that about summed it all up.

“Oh,” Root said and Sameen was just about to say – ‘Don’t get your feelings hurt’, when Root said – “No thrill of the chase?”

Did she just demonstrate that she ‘got’ Shaw? Why, yes she did!

“YES!” Shaw said, totally surprised that Root understood, but grateful she was so much easier to work with than Iris.

“I get it,” Root assured her and saw the look of relief on Shaw’s face.

But getting what she wanted, also didn’t feel great. It was better than being totally misunderstood, but it made Sameen suspicious. “Okay, then…..good. So, no sandwiches in my lunchbox?”

“Could I still put the juice box in?” Root teased, unable to repress the giddy tone in her voice when she looked at Shaw.

“That’s pure crap. Don’t drink that stuff,” said the woman whose entire diet was a junk pyramid.

“I’m so glad you told me, Sameen,” Root said, because it was a step in the right direction.

“Okay, good,” Shaw said, wondering why that was so easy. “I have….to …go take a shower,” she added, remembering where she was going before she got sidetracked.

“I have….a shower…,” Root offered sweetly. “In there….,” she pointed to the private bathroom at the other end of her large office.

“Yeah?” Shaw said, still in awe of the size of her boss’ workplace. She did like the idea of a private shower rather than the one in the gym.

“Okay, well enjoy,” Root said as she and Bear walked out. “You can put your clothes in the laundry chute.”

“Look, I’d be the worst bodyguard in the world if I didn’t ask where you were going,” Sameen said as she made her way to the bathroom.

“Bear has a yoga class,” Root smiled and waved goodbye.

“I swear that’s starting to sound normal. That’s not a good sign,” Shaw said, dropping her clothes down the chute and getting into the luxurious shower with the three shower heads.

Fifteen minutes later, or according to Sameen’s calculation; nine hundred minutes of pure heaven, there was banging on the door. “SHAW?” came the almost familiar shriek.

Sameen grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her, still in the stall when Martine walked in, Root’s secretary behind her. “Sorry, Ms. Shaw, but she said it was urgent,” the pleasant woman apologized.

“It better be,” Shaw warned them.

“Must be nice getting executive perks,” Martine said, feeling as jealous as her voice indicated.

“Would you mind if I got dressed?” she asked and then realized she left her clothes and gun in Iris’ waiting room.

And as if she had it all figured out, which ironically she had time to do, Martine handed Shaw some clothes. “You can wear these,” she said smiling.

“What are you, the fashion police?” Shaw asked and Root’s secretary covered her mouth as she laughed.

Martine stood there, holding out the clothes and Shaw groaned and took them. “Could I get dressed?” she asked and both women stepped outside, but didn’t close the door.

“Shaw, we’re seeing unusually high media chatter about Ms. Groves' activities,” Martine informed the bodyguard. “You know what that means, right?”

“She’s popular?” Shaw asked annoyed as she shoved on the pants.

“It means that her activities are being monitored and we have to make sure in case she’s being watched. Was she threatened by anyone recently?” Martine asked as Shaw looked at the white top the woman had brought her.

“Peter Yogorov threatened her,” Shaw said.

“Is that in your notes, Shaw?” Martine snapped at her.

“Notes? What the hell are you talking……oh, you did not just give me one of these shirts!” Shaw yelled as she looked at the while polo with the company logo on it.

“Form 675, Shaw! John told you about it in your meeting? Notes we have to write up after every incident?” Martine said disdainfully. If there was one thing Martine hated more than rule breakers; it was rule breakers getting away with it.

“I…no one…..okay, I’ll fill out the damn form,” Shaw said, emerging from the room in her new TEAM BEAR polo shirt.

“Someone must be with her at all times, Shaw,” Martine lectured and Shaw decided the order of her priorities was first – find Root; second - burn the shirt – and a very close third – smack Martine on the upside of her head.

“Fine, fine,” Shaw relented. “I’ll go find her. What floor is doggie yoga on?” she asked Jill, Root’s secretary.

“Oh, no,” Jill said hesitantly.

“You let her go by herself to Bear’s yoga class?” Martine shouted and called for John on her radio attached to her right shoulder. “Reese, we’ve got a 353.”

“What the hell is a 353?” Shaw demanded to know.

“READ THE MANUAL, SHAW!” Martine snapped.

“Bear’s yoga class is in Central Park, Ms. Shaw,” Jill said worried.

“I never got a manual,” Shaw said defensively.

“Yes, I’m sending her now,” Martine said, with the authority of the class monitor.

“You want me to go out in public …dressed like this?” Shaw asked in horror.

Shaw wanted her clothes, her Nano that Fusco had returned to her that morning, but there was no time. Shaw was on the elevator before she knew it – heading out of BEAR and into the public dressed in a white polo.

Shaw took this as a sign of the inevitable apocalypse.


	32. Turning Up the Heat

Root had only planned on using the Yogorov threat if she thought Sameen was really going to leave. What kind of bodyguard would quit if their boss’ life was truly in danger? She didn’t expect Peter’s lawyers to get him arraigned so quickly and get him out on bail. He was being careful about his next move.

Martine had been right – there was more chatter about the CEO’s routine.

“I swear to God,” Shaw bellowed as she left the building and started walking the short distance to Central Park. Jill had promised to send her the exact location of the yoga class. She heard her phone beep and she stopped to look at it. Shaw swore people were staring at her ludicrous attire.

Once again, the bigger threat to Root’s life appeared to be just entering the park.

Shaw didn’t have to walk far into the grounds before she could pick out the yoga class. There was a circle of various breeds and their owners or handlers, surrounding the soft spoken instructor who was calmly giving directives. “I wonder if they can do the downward dog pose,” Shaw thought, shaking her head at how ridiculous this all was.

“Hey, you can protect me anytime,” a jogger called out to Shaw when he passed in front of her.

“Where do I get my very own security guard?” another asked as he came up behind her.

“What the….?” Shaw said because there was no way these guys saw her team logo on the front of the shirt. Then it hit her. “No, no, noooooo!” Shaw yelled and right there in the middle of the pathway, stopped and grabbed her shirt, trying to pull in around her shoulder so she could look. She couldn’t see anything without taking it off. “You,” she said to the accountant type guy walking near her. She grabbed his arm, and in spite of being mauled by a beautiful woman, he was still startled. “Is there something on my back!” she demanded and turned so he could see.

“What? No,” he confirmed thinking she was concerned there was dirt or worse.

“Okay, thanks,” Shaw said, facing him and patting him on the shoulder to go about his day.

“Just a little smudge by the “U” in your title,” he commented, finally feeling flattered by the woman’s presence.

Shaw grabbed him by the arms tightly. “MY WHAT?” she demanded.

He started to shake immediately. “Your lettering?” he quivered.

“Take a picture!” Shaw barked and turned so he could snap it with his IPhone. She then grabbed the phone, looked at it and clenched her jaw.

She was going to kill Martine.  On the back of the shirt she gave Shaw was large black letters spelling out SECURITY.

“Have you found her?” came the text and Shaw remembered what she was doing there.

“Yeah, yeah,” she wrote back and proceeded to the group.

The problem was, when she got there, there was no Bear, and no Root.

Shaw walked right over to the instructor, interrupting the class. “Where is Bear?” Shaw asked and the woman explained that they had not come to the class today. “What?” Shaw barked. “Where else do crazy people who spoil their dogs rotten go? No offense,” Sameen said to the group that starred at her.

Shaw grabbed her phone and dialed Root. Within seconds, she heard Root greet her. “Oh, hi, Sameen. I knew you’d come find me.”

“Root? Where are you?” Shaw said, and realized her heart was beating faster. What the hell caused that, she wondered.

“Bear wanted to cut class today, so we walked over to the carousel. Do you want to join us?” Root asked, full of hope.

“You know, you’re not supposed to go all MIA on me,” Shaw complained as she walked in her boss’ direction.

“I love it when you’re bossy,” Root said, unhinging Shaw like no one else could do.

“I’m not bossy. I’m trying to avoid….. detention. Now, where are ….okay I see you,” Shaw said, pushing the phone back in her pocket.

* * *

“Sameen is coming!” Root told Bear, but the dog seemed distracted. “What is it, Bear?” she asked. Her phone rang and she assumed it was Shaw. “Hello, Sweetie. Did you get lost?”

But it wasn’t Shaw.

“Ms. Groves, listen to me carefully,” a heavy accented man said into the phone. “We have a man in van with a rifle pointed at your dog. Back in my country, he’s a marksman. If you don’t follow our instructions, we will shoot your precious dog.”  
Root’s head swung around to see where the van was. “What do you want?” she demanded.

“Tie the dog’s leash to the bench. Walk to the van. If you get in, we won’t shoot the dog,” the man said. Then a silenced rifle demonstrated how close they could come as a bullet whizzed past the dog into the dirt. Bear jumped and growled.

“Okay, okay,” Root said, and took the dog over to the bench, sat down and nonchalantly attached his leash to it so he could not get loose. She put her phone to her ear to listen.

“Good, now walk to the van,” she was instructed. Root tried to do that as calmly as she could. She was afraid if they saw Sameen, they’d hurt her.

“Can you believe they gave me this shirt?” Shaw called out when she was within shouting distance. “I am going back to the office and burning it!”

Root jerked and stopped walking. “Oh, it’s your little girlfriend,” the man said in the phone. “I’ve wanted to talk to her. Bring her.”

Root turned her back to Shaw who was still walking towards her. “Just take me,” she said and that of course only convinced the man that he should take Shaw.

“Bring her or I’ll shoot her,” he said.

“Why is Bear tied up over there? Being punished for playing hooky? I went by your yoga class. You might have mentioned it was off premises,” Shaw said all in one New York breath.

“Sameen,” Root said, slowly and definitely.

“What?” Shaw said, never seeing Root so focused.

“You have to come with me or they’re going to hurt Bear,” she said slowly.

“What? Who?” Shaw said, looking around and seeing no one. “Is this like a dog-bullying thing or something?”

Root handed Sameen the phone because the man instructed her to. “Ms. Shaw, how nice to see you again. Of course, I’m not really there, but my men are keeping close tabs on you and Ms. Groves,” Peter said and Shaw recognized his voice.

“What do you want?” Shaw spat as she looked around and saw the van suspiciously parked.

“Come with your boss to the van, Ms. Shaw and no one will get hurt,” he instructed.

“Oh, someone’s gonna get hurt. It’s just a matter of how many of you,” Shaw threatened. The response to the threat was a bullet that chipped off a piece of wood near where Bear was leashed.

“Sameen, we have to listen!” Root begged because she feared for the dog’s safety.

Shaw’s mind raced with what they could do, but Root was already walking towards the van. For a split second, but long enough to decide it wasn’t a good idea, Shaw turned to Bear and wanted to utter the famous line – “ _Go get help, Lassie_!”  
“I am so losing it,” Shaw said, walking behind Root to catch up. As soon as she got closer, she instructed Root to let her do all the talking. Of course, as soon as the van door opened, Root started the negotiations.

“Whatever you want, I’ll get you. Just don’t hurt anyone.”

The two men in the back of the van motioned for them to get in and they did. They removed both women’s phones and handed them to a woman who came out of nowhere and took them and went back to the park.

Then, they pushed Root down on one side and Sameen on the other and started to put their hands in cuffs. “Look, you don’t have to cuff her,” Shaw said trying to connect with her captor, “…she can’t fight her way out of a paper bag…,” she tried, but he slapped her hard across her face.

Shaw’s head flew sideways and Root screamed out. “Don’t you touch her!”

“You’re very protective of your girlfriend,” he noted because it was that obvious. “That’s going to make this interesting.”

“I’m not her girlfriend, idiot,” Shaw said, her tongue checking to see if that was blood as she felt her lip swell. “I’m her security guard. Read the shirt,” she said, and twisted. She looked back at Root, her eyes pleading with her to go with this. Root understood.  
“That’s not one of our standard shirts,” Root said because she had never seen anyone at BEAR wearing that.

“Yeah,” Sameen said, not surprised. “I think it’s the Scarlet Letter version.”

It worked in their favor that they believed Shaw was just her bodyguard, but Peter could hear them, too. He wasn’t so sure. Root attempted again to discuss their demands. “Would you let me do this?” Shaw said, her eyes wide, trying to convey she knew how to. “Few years of training,” she said in a low voice.

Root wanted to explain that she had excellent negotiating skills because of all the large business deals she closed, but she deferred to Shaw.

“Listen, Boris or whatever your name is,” the undiplomatic former CIA agent began. “I’m in this job about nine days now, although to be honest, I’ve lost count with the transatlantic trip. It’s been one aggravating day after another. And not that I mind a little excursion to prove to my boss over there that I can protect her, but I’m the one who initiated the sting your boss got caught in. So, drop her off at the next stop and I’ll go easy on you when I start kicking asses.”

Sameen had found in her former careers, that men usually got distracted when beautiful women talked to them. She just needed them to be unfocused for a second.

“That’s not entirely true,” Shaw heard Root say and the man turned now and lost his locked gaze on Shaw.

“Root!” Shaw said between clenched teeth.

Root was afraid if Shaw took all the credit, they’d kill her. At least if they held Root responsible, they could hold her for ransom.

Peter Yogorov wasn’t looking for money; he was looking for payback and Shaw knew that.

* * *

They arrived, as predicted, at a warehouse in Brooklyn. The men pulled Root and Shaw out and walked them inside and shoved them down, where they tied their legs and hands to the chair. Then they left them to go talk to their boss.

Shaw immediately started to struggle against the ties. “Don’t do that,” Root said. “They’ve got a chip inside them to tighten if you do.”

“What kind of crazy ass shit is that?” Shaw said, unfamiliar with such a device. It was, of course, a rhetorical question except for the guilty look on her boss’ face. “You made these? Who are you?” Shaw asked.

“Someone …stole the idea from me and used it in cuffs,” Root said, and she meant to file a lawsuit, but never got around to it. “I can’t believe you’re wearing that shirt,” she then commented because she knew Shaw hated it.

“I swore I wouldn’t be caught dead in it,” Shaw said just at Peter walked up to them.

“Well, then, today might be your lucky day,” he said pulling up a chair and sitting down. “Hello, Ms. Groves, Ms. Shaw,” he said and the police monitoring system was prominently displayed on his ankle. “They were afraid I would run,” he explained. “But I assured them, I have very strong ties to this community,” he laughed referring to the restrained women.

“Please don’t hurt Bear,” Root said because the woman was walking into the park.

“And I thought you were her favorite pet,” he said to Shaw. “No harm will come to your guard dog. The same cannot be said for your guard lady over here.”

“What do you want?” Root demanded and glared at the man.

“What do I want,” he laughed and his men joined in. “I want the American dream. I want revenge for you exposing me in your little sting operation.” He noticed Root was very agitated, but Shaw seemed nonplus about his threat.

Root was trying to remember back to her little invention which was designed to work in fasteners on things that were meant to be held in place, not people. Her visual memory went over the schematics as she tried to remember if there was a flaw in the design. There was! The device was easily short circuited out if exposed to heat.

A loud crash in the back of the warehouse distracted the men and Peter told them – ‘not to move’ and then laughed as he joined his men to investigate.

“Come over to me, Shaw,” Root said in a hush tone. “We need to create heat.”

“Root, no offense - you’re hot, you’re good with a gun, and those are two qualities I greatly admire,” Shaw said completely misunderstanding. “But you and me together would be like a four alarm fire in an oil refinery.”

Root stopped moving; she damn near stopped breathing at Shaw’s words. She thought Root was hot? And good with a gun? And she even had a simile for what they’d be like?

“Sounds cozy,” Root smiled devilishly, her eyes locked on Shaw, her brain almost fried.

* * *

“You got a lock on her location still?” John asked Martine back at BEAR.

“Both phones. They’re sitting on a bench in Central Park,” Martine said to be very clear she was on top of the situation. “They haven’t moved in an hour.”

“Get your team over there,” John yelled, getting on the phone to Fusco.

“But, John…,” Martine wanted to explain.

“It’s lunch time, Rousseau! Shaw would never be still this long!” he yelled.


	33. In the Hot Seat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will either work ....or suck. You let me know.

It took every ounce of Root’s brain to focus on the solution, rather than swoon over Shaw’s words. “ _You’re hot and good with a gun,”_ might as well have been lyrics to Root’s favorite song because they kept repeating over and over in her head. She could feel her face blushing. “I really can’t stand anyone tying you up,” Root flirted back blatantly. “Except me.” The slight shake of her head and the smile on her face caught Shaw’s eye.

“Root, I swear to God, you flirt at the most awkward times,” Shaw said, unconsciously putting a word to what Root had been doing since they met. The more Shaw moved, the tighter the cuffs got and she grimaced in pain.

“Stay still,” Root instructed, shuffling her chair over to Shaw’s instead because she could see pain on Shaw’s face. Root moved until she was back to back with the woman who continued to struggle. “Now, I’ll rub yours, if you rub mine,” Root said because she had been storing up flirtatious lines for days.

“Root!” Shaw yelled in a whisper, because nowhere in her years of training did it ever condone playful banter. EVER.

Root placed her cuffs at an angle with Shaw’s and they began rubbing them against one another. “Rub faster,” Shaw demanded and Root’s head got light from the connotation.

“Sure, Sameen,” Root said, but her wrists weren’t the only part of her body heating up.

* * *

Peter and his thugs were making their way back. Shaw had to come up with a plan.

The idea worked and soon enough the chips overheated and the cuffs loosened. Shaw was thrilled it worked; Root – would have liked to keep doing it a little longer. “Now, get back over there,” Shaw said and Root’s disappointment made her sigh loudly. “Now, let me handle it when they come back in. You get to safety, okay?” Shaw directed. She looked around to even find the best spot for Root. “When I jump up, you get behind those boxes over there.”

Brilliant plans were actually a forte of Sameen’s. Her high intelligence and her brain’s ability not to get distracted by feelings made her a very calculating individual. She had always been able to assess a dire situation and quickly decide the best plan.  
Of course, the difference now was she wasn’t talking to a fellow marine who knew how to follow orders.

“Sorry, ladies,” Peter said and returned with his two armed sidekicks. “Now, where were we? Oh, yes, I was going to tell you how I was going to pay you back.” Then he looked over at Shaw; his eyes slowing moving up her body. “I’m especially going to enjoy paying you back for shooting me,” and there was no mistaking his tone. He put his hand on Shaw’s knee for the briefest moment.

Now, Shaw was waiting for the perfect moment when she could reach one of the armed men, get his gun and take down the others, as her boss ran to safety. Nowhere in that plan was there the option for Root to stand up first and kick Peter in the groin.

But that’s what Root did.

“Don’t you touch her, you sonovabitch!” Root yelled and struck him so hard between the legs; the man groaned and passed out.  
Shaw had to think fast – now that her Plan A had been completely undone. She grabbed the gun aimed at Root and twisted it fast and hit the man in the face with the butt of the gun; just as the gun went off.

“Put it down!” the other man yelled and had the gun aimed at Root. Shaw had no choice, but to comply. “Boss? Boss?’ he said, trying to move Peter with his foot. “Guess I’ll take care of you both,” he said and took aim at Root and pulled the trigger.  
Root heard the gun explode and knew enough about firearms to know it was going to hurt like hell when she got hit. But the searing pain was in the back of her head, not her torso where she expected it.

She opened her eyes realizing the pain was from hitting her head on the floor. Shaw was on top of her, motionless. “Sameen?” Root said, when she felt the deadweight of Shaw’s body on her. “SAMEEN?” Root screamed, afraid to move her. She put her hands up to Shaw’s head and then down her back and found it. Shaw’s right shoulder had been hit.

“Sonovabitch!” Shaw moaned. Now Root was caught between wanting to hold onto Shaw and the fear that he would keep shooting. She rolled over fast, pushing Sameen beneath her so she could protect her.

Then gunshots rained down around them.

* * *

“Don’t move, Shaw,” they heard Fusco say and the medics followed, helping Root up first.

Shaw was completely disoriented and in pain. The medics looked at her arm and put her on the stretcher. “What the hell, Fusco?” Shaw yelled while she tried to rip the restraints off.

John was next to Root and asking her if she was okay. The room was filled with NYPD, taking Peter and his men out in handcuffs. “I want at him,” Root yelled at the man who shot Sameen. She lunged at him and Reese had trouble holding her back. “It’s okay, Root,” he said, putting all his strength into holding her in place.

“Listen, Coco Puffs,” Lionel said, trying to reason with her. “He’s done for. We got him on tape again and this time, he’s cooked.”

“Get off me,” Shaw was yelling. “Fusco, get me some duct tape; I’ll be fine!” she was growling.

John looked over at the paramedics struggling to fend the petite woman off. “If you don’t stop, Shaw, they’ll be forced to sedate you,” he warned.

“Don’t you even ….,” Shaw said, fighting them more now and making her arm bleed more.

“Root?” John said, knowing what would make Shaw listen.

She rushed right over to Shaw’s side. “Sameen, stop! Let them look at your arm. NO! Don’t pull that out,” she said when Sameen went to pull out the IV. Shaw relented, but only because the pain was getting worse.

“I want you to look at her head,” John told the medics. “I can see the bump from here.”

“How the hell did the Calvary get here?” Shaw asked Reese.

He looked over at the paramedic who had prepared the sedation to make sure he was ready.

“Remember those clothes Rousseau gave you?” he asked.

“Oh yes! I have to make a stop before we go to the hospital so I can kick her ass,” Shaw yelled.

“Yeah, well when I returned you gun, I forgot to give you the other ‘evidence’ we had of yours,” Fusco chimed in. “So, I gave it to your friend; what’s her name?”

“Martine,” John said and looked over at the medic.

“What the hell does she have to do with this? Did you see what she gave me?” Shaw struggled to move so John could see, but the medic held her in place.

Root got it immediately. She looked down at Shaw who was trying to get what the connection was.

“Martine gave you the bra from last night. With the wire,” Root figured out.

“What? What?” No, noooo,” Shaw said, and then turned to Root. “Check. Check and see,” she demanded and John, Fusco and the paramedics all started to look around.

“Sure, sweetie,” Root said, and slid her hand up under Shaw’s bloodied shirt. “Yep,” she said, because she could feel the nodule on the bra.

“When we knew you guys were trouble, we activated the wire, to get your location,” Fusco said.

Shaw wasn’t so incoherent that she missed that. She pulled her left arm out of the restraints, and like lightening, grabbed Lionel and pulled him down by his jacket. “What do you mean you activated it?” she snarled.

_Root had insisted that to activate the device, you needed to press the conductive wires together._

Lionel produced the remote control that Root had provided ….. just in case …. In an emergency.

Shaw let go and fell back. She called Root’s name softly, and the woman trustingly bent over to hear her. Once again, Sameen’s arm struck quickly and she grabbed Root by the throat. John was already telling the paramedic to shove the sedative in.  
“I …will….end…you,” Shaw said, feeling like Root had gotten the better of her.

Root never pushed Sameen’s hand away and waited until the sedative started to work, and her grip loosened on its own.

“You can end me all you want,” Root whispered, as Shaw succumbed to the drug, “…right after your nap.”


	34. Sweet as Honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: All puns intended this time.  
> There is no way to improve upon the original event, so bear that in mind.

Root rode alongside the sedated Sameen in the ambulance and kept assuring her everything would be okay. At the hospital, the staff had to explain that Root could not go into the operating room and asked her to please let the nurse examine the bloodied gash from falling on the back her own head. She hardly sat still when they stitched up the cut, making phone calls to make sure the right doctors were around. As soon as the doctor was done suturing her up, Root jumped off the table and joined Fusco and John in the waiting area.

“You okay?” John asked and Root said yes, and began her pacing back and forth.

“Don’t worry, Shaw’s tough as nails,” Fusco commented and Root thanked him.

To say Shaw was getting the best of care was an understatement. Root made sure the top doctors were on duty, even though Shaw didn’t sustain any life threatening injuries. “Her arm will be in a sling,” the doctor predicted and Root now imagined all the ways she could be of assistance to Shaw.

John watched as his boss grew more worried as the time dragged on without an update. In assuring Root, Lionel was reassuring himself. “She’s gonna be fine,” he said again. “It’s when she wakes up that we’re all going to be in danger.”

“You’re the one who told her about the remote,” John pointed out in his calm, low voice and summing up why they all had to be prepared.

“I didn’t know,” Lionel said in his defense.

“I’ll just explain it to her,” Root said, not in the least bit worried.

“What kind of flowers do you like?” Lionel asked.

“What?” Root asked, unable to make the connection.

“For your funeral,” Fusco said, because he had seen Sameen angry and it wasn’t pretty.

* * *

  
Inside the private room where Shaw would soon be, there was yet another delivery of flowers even before she occupied it. When Janine heard what happened, she practically ran from floor to floor telling everyone the news. “ _Sameen saved Ms. Groves_!” the Town Cryer announced.

“She …..what!” Martine asked, feeling like Shaw could do no wrong even though she was a huge wrong-doer.

“She jumped in front of Ms. Groves and saved her life!” Janine said and she was practically making the cape she thought Shaw should wear. “She’s so brave!” she all but swooned.

John had chastised Martine for falling for the trick of someone else holding Root and Shaw’s phones to make them think they were just sitting in the park. “Maybe you need to spend more time with Shaw to get to know her,” he said as a punishment to Martine.

* * *

“You know, on the upside, it was that woman who gave the bra to Shaw and that’s how we found them,” Lionel said, connecting the dots.

“Oh, good,” John replied. “Shaw and Rousseau can share the limelight. That should be nothing short of fireworks.” Then John got quiet as he contemplated the bigger threat. “You know the scariest part of all of this?” he asked in all seriousness. “She hasn’t eaten in a few hours.”

Harold rushed into the waiting area, Bear alongside him, and went over to Root and hugged her. “Are you okay? How is Miss Shaw?”

Root looked down to see Bear wearing his “ _Empathy Canine_ ” designated wear so they would let him in. “Oh, Harry,” Root said, hugging the man. “She saved my life!” she said and then shared that news with Bear in Dutch.

John and Lionel had to admit; the bullet probably was aimed at Root’s heart and could have caused serious damage before the shorter woman’s body blocked it.

“Is Miss Shaw okay?” Harry asked, looking at all three.

“Well, she hasn’t eaten in hours, but yeah, other than that, she's probably fine,” John announced again.

“Oh, dear,” Harold said, because everyone understood what that meant. “I should have brought something.” Even Bear whimpered at that news.

“She’s going to be okay,” Root said and already her mind was thinking about where Sameen should be when she was released. Knowing Shaw as she already did, she knew that meant soon.

* * *

Inside, Shaw was thinking how she was more annoyed that Root flipped her over than she was shot. She didn’t need protecting! She did the protecting! She lay there deciding what she was going to say to her boss when she finally saw her.  
She had to tell Root - this obviously wasn’t working out. And she decided it would be better to tell her sooner, rather than later.

She got up from the gurney, ripped out the IV, and walked out. The fact that Root wasn’t right there surprised Sameen, but it made it easier. It gave her time to get her thoughts together. Now that she was alone, Shaw was certain to lay out her next steps and to follow them through diligently. As she hailed a cab and went to BEAR, she methodically numbered the things she needed to do. There were only two.

Her first stop was Security.

“Martine?” she said when she saw the woman.

“Hey, good job….,” the fellow employee was about to congratulate her even though she didn’t really mean it.

Her sentiment was cut short by Shaw punching her. Shaw held her fist, not having hit the woman as hard as she could have.

“I’m still gonna kick your ass, Shaw,” Martine said, holding her jaw for what she knew was revenge for the shirt.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sameen said, mentally checking that off her list. Then, she proceeded upstairs to Root’s office and walked in.

* * *

Root was on the phone, but interrupted the call as soon as Sameen walked in. “Oh, you’re feeling better!” she said in her usual sweet voice. That made Shaw think for a second that she wasn’t entirely sure what her injury was. No matter.  
Root walked around the edge of her desk, dressed in a red blouse and black pants. “I was so worried about you, Sameen,” Root said and Shaw stopped in her tracks. “I felt the blood and thought - what would I do if you were really hurt? I admit, I really don’t think …,” but Shaw interrupted her.

Shaw had a planned response for every conceivable thing Root could say to her. It ran the gamut from her crying to her being angry. It’s like ripping a duct tape off a gunshot wound, Shaw decided. Hurts like hell the slower you do it.

“Look, Root, I’m ….,” Shaw began as her boss stood in front of her. Shaw caught herself staring into honey brown eyes that held her in their doe-like gaze. “Dammit, Root,” Shaw said, breaking her stare. “I gave this a shot, ok?” she said annoyed, staring out the window now. “It’s not good. You and me, it doesn’t work, so I …ahem…gave this thought and I think I should go.” Shaw refused to look at what she knew would be the hurt registering on her boss’ face. See, she thought. This is what happens when you’re in touch with feelings; people get hurt.

“Okay, Sameen,” Root said, surprising Shaw.

“Wait. Okay?” Shaw asked, looking directly at her boss now. The hurt was there, but Root was trying to hide it behind a smile.

“I will always want what’s best for you, and if leaving is what you need to do, then I understand,” Root said, her voice filled with sadness.

This was not what Shaw was expecting.

“This is what I mean! You…I…can never figure you out! I came prepared for tears or yelling and then you just say okay,” Shaw complained. “Fine.”

 _Mission accomplished_ , Sameen’s brain told her, but something else was going on. She had this intense feeling suddenly in her chest and she wondered if this is what a heart attack felt like. She remembered people describing the symptoms when she worked in the hospital and she was pretty sure this was it. She opened her mouth to thank Root because that was protocol, but her breathing was labored.

Sameen’s head may have been on board for this break up, but her body knew better.

“I will _really_ miss you,” Root said slowly and with feeling, reaching out to touch Shaw’s arm.

Something was happening to Shaw. Suddenly, she felt things being ripped from her, searing pain everywhere, and she couldn’t bear it. She stared at Root and decided she was causing it! Root was the source of this voracious pain. Shaw lunged at her and put her hands on her head to make her stop, but in that split second – Root reached for Shaw’s face and pulled her in and kissed her.

Shaw’s brain panicked. This was not what was supposed to happen! She grabbed Root by the shoulders and backed her into the desk, but all she could think about was the taste of Root’s lip gloss on her own. The struggle was intense inside Shaw, but it was one battle her head was not going to win. She pulled Root in, kissing her hard and sending Root swirling from head to toe.

One look at the smirk on Root’s face told Shaw she was not going to go down easy.

Root grabbed Shaw forcefully, pushing Sameen over the edge. That strong move both surprised and excited Shaw. In response, she ripped open Root’s blouse and buttons went flying. Root’s eyes smoldered as her body ignited. She grabbed the opening in Shaw’s white polo shirt and ripped it right down the middle. Shaw pushed her down on the desk, pulling her blouse off. Root reached up, grabbing Shaw’s ripped shirt and discarded it, moaning her intention.

It was tug-of-war foreplay as Root grabbed Shaw and put her mouth on her neck, gently biting it. Not being able to control this situation was actually turning Shaw on more. Wanting Root to do this sent Shaw to a place she had never been. She was fighting it and wanting it at the same time. She could feel Root’s teeth and lips on her neck. She pushed her down on the desk, grazing her hands over Root’s breasts as the CEO finally succumbed to Shaw’s adept touch. She tugged at Root’s pants and then discarded her own.

Something surged through Shaw as she gave in to what she desperately wanted. She sent piles of papers and items crashing as she knocked them out of the way. She hurriedly relieved Root of what little clothing she still had on, leaving her exposed to her touch.

“God, Sameen,” Root panted, “I have wanted this since the moment we met.”

“Shut up,” Sameen said in a husky voice. Shaw didn’t want her to talk; she wanted her to scream. And that’s what Root did as Shaw sent her over the edge with just the right trace of her tongue. Root’s entire body craved Shaw’s touch and it reacted with electric explosions that ran from head to toe. Root had never experienced sex like that in her life.

Shaw stood there; a mixture of seduction and egotism. “I finally got you to stop talking,” she smiled.

Root pulled Sameen in and kissed her until she felt the last ounce of resistance leave Shaw’s body. She got up and dragged Shaw to the room off her office and gently pushed her down on the bed. “We’re so not done,” Root grinned and knew she had to act quickly, devouring Shaw’s skin until the tension was so tight; it took only a few strokes to make Shaw’s entire body convulse.

Smiling victoriously, Root shared – “And no zip ties.”

Lying next to Root asleep, Sameen was surprised to hear her say – “ _Okay, Sameen, you can stop fighting now_.”

Someone was pulling Sameen away and she begged them to stop, whoever they were. She didn’t demand it, she pleaded. “ _It’s okay now, Sameen, you’re all done_.”

In all his years of being an anesthesiologist, Dr. Martin had never seen anyone respond while they were under the way he just saw this patient react.

* * *

The surgeon went into the waiting area and told her friends that Sameen did fine, although her blood pressure and vitals were unstable during the operation. “Strangest thing,” he said. “It was as if she were fighting us off.”

No one found that surprising.

Not even Bear.

“We got the bullet out without incident,” the doctor confirmed.

“Can I have it?” Root asked.

“You want the bullet?” the physician asked quizzically.

“It’s evidence,” Lionel explained, but Root made such a fuss that he said he’d see what he could do to get it to her after they were done. “You’ll have to get your own chain to hang it on.”

“I want to see her,” Root demanded – just in case there was going to be any hesitation.

“Are you Root?” the doctor asked.

“Yes,” Samantha said, surprised because she had not shared her nickname.

The doctor smiled. “She’s been calling your name the whole time.”


	35. Fruit of Shaw's Labors

When Sameen woke up in the hospital, every detail was so vivid to her, she was certain it had happened. It didn’t seem to matter that, logically, no one else knew about her dream. She glared hard at the nurses as if they had seen it play out on a screen. “It means nothing,” she snapped at one of them when they smiled.

“Did you hit your head when you went down?” one of them asked, out of curiosity.

Sameen’s lip raised on one side, an unconscious body tell for exposing her canine teeth. “You tell me,” she said snidely.

“And the _patient of the year award_ goes to,” someone murmured, but smiled quickly when Shaw looked at them.

“I’m outta here,” Shaw said and swung her legs over the side of the bed and grimaced in pain. Her shoulder was bandaged and in a sling.

“Ain’t you something,” the nurse who had seen it all said. “Much as we like our patients to leave satisfied, we don’t let them take our attractive hospital wear with them.”

“My clothes?” Shaw asked.

“Oh, that ugly white shirt with those huge letters on the back?” the nurse grinned. “We had to cut that off you. Well, that’s not exactly true,” the nurse whispered. “The resident was a little excited to have her first gunshot wound and ripped it right down the middle.”

Shaw was beginning to think that she felt the things happening to her and her brain worked it into her dream. That dream was coming back to her now in vivid color.

“I gotta go,” she said again and went to rip the IV out and then looked in the doorway.

“Do you even want to know what happened to you?” the nurse asked, because Shaw had been out of it since she arrived.

“Bullet entered my shoulder missing the subclavian artery, which feeds the brachial artery, but did graze the brachial plexus, the large nerve bundle that controls arm function. A recent study of gunshot victims wounded in the brachial plexus found that a majority of them needed follow-up surgery to deal with blood vessel damage, severe pain and loss of motor function,” Shaw recited with a smug look on her face. “You better _hope_ I don’t have to come back.”

“Oh, I’m not only hoping, I’m praying,” the nurse retorted quickly. Root was standing there, having just received the okay to see the patient. “Oh, good,” the nurse said. “Are you someone who can talk some sense into her, please?”

Root went right to the bed and put her hand on Sameen’s arm where the IV port was. “Just give it a little while, okay, sweetie?” she asked because she could see how upset Shaw was. “You are a sight for sore eyes,” Root smiled as Sameen sat back in the bed; resigned Root would annoy her more if she didn’t comply.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, looking away as if her boss could read her dream.

“Sameen, thank you,” Root said and she meant for saving her, for living, for not dying, for being who she was, for existing.

“Stop it, okay?” Shaw barked because being in a hospital gown made her feel as vulnerable as she was. “You can’t thank me for doing my job!”

The longer Root was around Shaw; the less she was fazed by her outbursts. And the most annoying thing was that she was learning how to handle them.

“Well, I can thank you for doing it so well,” Root replied.

“I want out,” Shaw said, wanting to get away. Then she realized she needed something. “Get me clothes? Please?” she said, turning on the charm.

“Cute,” Root said, smiling and feeling herself giving in. “Can you at least wait until the IV bag is done?” Then, she texted Jill to have clothes brought to the hospital.

“Oh, look at you!” Fusco yelled from the door, and he and John walked in with balloons and a teddy bear that John didn’t seem to know what to do with.

“It’s for you,” he said awkwardly handing it to Shaw. Fusco talked him into getting it and he did, knowing it was a huge mistake. “The gift shop didn’t have whiskey.”

“Really, Reese?” Shaw said, frowning at him.

“Harold went to get food,” he said, hoping that would be better.

“Could one of you overzealous people put your energy into getting me clothes?” Shaw said, in a tone void of politeness.

“Oh, no, Shaw!” John said, trying to save his lost dignity over the bear, “….they ripped your shirt?”

“She did it!” Shaw said, looking directly at Root who wished with all her heart that was true. “The stupid doctor,” she tried to explain. “Why do you keep asking me about that?”

Fusco looked at Reese and they exchanged a look of – ‘must have hit her head because she’s even ruder than usual’ look. “Hey, Shaw, the mayor wants to thank you both personally, you know, for getting another bad guy off the street. I do it all the time, but it’s because you’re civilians,” Lionel shared.

“The mayor?” Root said impressed, but stopped when she saw Shaw roll her eyes in frustration.

Then Shaw got the best news from the nurse. “We took a vote, and you won!” she said, more teasing than offensive. “Which patient gets to leave first? We’re processing your discharge now. Now, the doctor will be in to give you instructions on how to care for your wound.”

“I know what to do,” Shaw said dismissively.

Harold and Bear entered the room gingerly, the bag held out in front of them for protection. “We brought you dinner,” he said and placed the package down as Shaw stared at him.

“Thank you,” Shaw said and patted the bed for Bear to jump up on. “I’m sorry if you’re missing a class or something,” she said and meant it.

“Two hands are better than one,” Root said, helping Shaw when she struggled to open the bag. She held the bag opened and Shaw lunged for the food.

“I had them cut it up,” Harold whispered out of the side of his mouth to John.

“I hope you didn’t bring plastic utensils,” John said, because even though the sirloin looked tender, John didn’t think plastic could stand up to the stabbing action Shaw was doing.

Root tried to keep up with Shaw’s ferocious appetite, by moving the plate so she could reach things.

“I’m leaving as soon as I’m done,” Shaw announced and everyone nodded their head.

A courier brought clothes to the room and Root told them to leave the bag on the chair. “There better not be a polo shirt in there,” she warned, because graciousness escaped her when she was feeling like this.

Shaw gave a piece of the meat to Bear who decided right then and there, this woman was going to be his lifelong friend.

The nurse came back in to remove Shaw’s IV, but upon seeing the dog in the bed, explained that pets were not allowed.

“He’s an _empathy_ dog! He’s giving me _empathy_!” Shaw growled.

The nurse saw the canine’s designation. “And how’s that working out for you?” she asked the dog directly.

“I like her,” Fusco said of the nurse and Shaw glared at him.

“You are free to go, Ms. Shaw, since you refused the doctor’s instructions,” the RN said and then turned to Root. “I wrote everything down here and here is a prescription for pain killers.”

Root took everything the nurse handed her. “I don’t need pain killers,” Shaw barked because she refused to admit how much this hurt.

“I didn’t say there were for you,” the nurse winked at Root. “It’s for whoever is taking care of you.”

Even John cracked a smile over that!

“I think Sameen would like to get dressed now,” Root said, seeing that she was getting aggravated as she shouted no one was taking care of her and why did the nurse think anyone was going to take care of her because she didn’t need anyone to take care of her.

The men took Bear and stepped outside, wondering if Shaw was going to let Root take care of her or not. “She probably is going to need help, with her arm in a sling,” Harold noted.

Root opened the bag and took out the black pants and sleeveless blouse that buttoned up the front. There was new underwear as well and she laid it on the bed. “You didn’t tamper with any of this, did you?” Shaw asked, a little calmer now that she ate.

“No,” Root blushed because that is exactly what she had done last time.

Shaw grabbed the clothes and looked at Root. “I got this,” she said, even though it was obvious that she would have trouble. She slid her arm out of the sling, cursing the pain that was escalating.

“Okay, sure,” Root said gently, not pressing the issue. She took her time walking to the door after pulling the curtain over to give Sameen her privacy. She listened as Shaw pulled and pushed to get her panties on and then the pants. “Dammit,” she said because there was no way she was going to be able to manage the bra.

* * *

  
“You want me to go fill that prescription?” John asked Root when she joined then outside. “You’re gonna need it.”

“I got this,” Lionel said, feeling particularly brave since he was already at the hospital. “She needs help and you’re the best one to do it,” he said to Root, and started to walk back into the room. “One more thing,” he said looking back. “My blood type is “O” positive.”


	36. Bread and Butter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I will try to make up for that 'other' chapter. lol

“Look, Shaw,” Lionel said as he stood outside her curtain and listened to her struggle, “I’m gonna tell you what I think you should do. Then, you can throw a tantrum and just do what you want.”

Shaw whipped the curtain back, her face hard as she fixed her eyes on him. “Tantrum?” she asked, picking out the word that upset her the most.

“Well, whatever that thing is you do,” Lionel clarified. He had faced hardened criminals with less anxiety. Maybe that was because in spite of the way Shaw carried on, he would never really want to upset her. He explained she needed help, if only for one night. And he did something he had never done before.

He threatened to tell her secret.

* * *

She emerged from the room a couple of minutes later, unable to counter Lionel’s logical argument. He stood behind her, holding the teddy bear, all smiles.  “Fusco insists that I not be alone tonight,” Sameen said to Root, rolling her eyes like she was only doing it for his sake.

"Oh, that’s a very good idea, Detective,” Harold said and Shaw huffed.

Root got it immediately. 

“Well, Bear and I are totally free if you’re feeling up …,” Root started, but then saw the look on Shaw’s face. No, the burden of actually asking someone to stay with her would weigh too heavily on Shaw. She’d see it as a sign of needing help. “Bear and I _insist_ that we stay with you tonight,” Root restated, and in the instant that followed, she swore she saw relief in Sameen’s eyes. 

Shaw stood still as she listened to those words. She thought she just wanted to go home and be alone, but she was afraid of falling asleep and dreaming again. “Okay,” Shaw finally said and there was a collective sigh of relief. Then she turned fast on her heels and snatched the bear out of Lionel’s arm. 

“Good luck with her tomorrow,” Lionel said to her coworkers.

* * *

In the time it took to get the prescription, Root sent John and Lionel on a mission. Then a car took Shaw and Root, along with Bear, to her apartment.  “Don’t you worry, Sameen,” Root said in the sweetest of voices. “I know exactly what you need.”

It was the knowing tone that made Sameen feel like Root knew something about her dream. How was that possible? Did that damn nurse tell Root that she had been calling her name? When the nurse told her about it, Shaw tried to explain that she was just involved in a dangerous situation with Root and she was calling out to see if she was okay. The nurse shot Shaw a look of – ‘ _Okay, if you say so, but I know better_.’ 

“Did that nurse say anything,” Shaw said nervously and Root caught it. “Because she totally misunderstood….what…was going on.” 

Root had never seen Shaw so anxious. “Sameen, let’s just say, that I have a pretty good idea what you need right now that will make you feel one hundred percent better,” Root said, as they got out of the car. Sameen looked at Bear who whined that even he didn’t know what she meant. The three went upstairs to Shaw’s apartment. 

Armed with the prepared food that was in the car waiting for them, and the keys, Root opened the door to the apartment. 

“Okay, look, just because a person is dreaming about…another person…..while they’re heavily sedated, I would like to point out,” Shaw started trying to explain why she had been calling Root’s name out. 

“You were dreaming about me, Sameen?” she said, her tone a mixture of giddy and girly. She couldn’t help it; Shaw was admitting that she dreamed about her. The question remained – _did Shaw dream about her the way she had been fantasizing about Shaw since the first time she met her?_

“I…I was …drugged, okay?” Shaw said, but even she could hear that wasn’t the reason. 

Root was beyond thrilled! She wasn’t going to rush it – it was happening and she knew it. She also knew Shaw was going to fight it for as long as she needed. Root would give her time, but not forever.

She wasn’t a saint, after all.

“That anesthesia can do….,” Shaw attempted to belabor the point, but couldn’t look at the smile plastered across Root’s face. It was beaming. 

“Come play,” Root said in a spirited voice. 

“Look, Root, I don’t…,” Shaw was saying when she caught sight of what Root was referring to. 

On the table were Shaw’s guns, all laid out in neat rows. She walked over and ran her hand across the cold steel of her Glock. It …felt…so…..good. She put her fingers of her left hand through it, just to hold it. 

“I will put this food away since I noticed there wasn’t anything in the refrigerator,” Root said, without pointing out that she knew Shaw gave away all the previously stocked meals. 

Root was right; stroking the hard metal made Shaw feel good. It made her feel strong and not vulnerable the way the damn sling did. 

And it was all Root’s idea. 

“Hey,” Shaw said, her fingers still trailing the weapon as Root looked up from the fridge, “Thanks.”  Her sincerity spoke volumes and Root tilted her head to the side and smiled.  “How did you….?” Shaw said, looking around at the guns laid out.

“I made the boys come back and do that since they were playing with them the other day,” Root said and Shaw didn’t even complain about them being in her locked apartment.

“Hey, how is your head?” the former doctor asked and Root turned so Shaw could inspect it. 

“You have to keep that clean,” she directed and the touch of Shaw’s hand on her hair gave Root chills up and down her spine. “Did they give you anything to put on it?”

“Yes, this,” Root said, getting the salve from her bag. 

“Okay, we’ll put it on tomorrow,” Shaw said, authoritatively. 

“I love it when you play doctor,” Root said, and she wasn’t kidding. 

“Yeah,” Shaw laughed. “That was a lifetime ago.” 

“ _Not in my fantasies,_ ” Root thought, but thought better than to say it. “Are you hungry?” she asked and Shaw admitted that she could eat something. Root went to the fringe and pulled out two dinners prepared by the chef. 

“Penne carbonara with chicken okay?” Root asked, already knowing the answer. She heated up the food and took out the fresh baked bread that Isabelle made. 

“OHMAGAWD,” Shaw moaned, as she tried to get more of it in her mouth. “Don’t ever let that woman go!"

“I promise,” Root said, deciding right then and there to give the woman a raise. 

When the food was ready, Root placed it on the table in front of Shaw, whose appetite had no time clock. “Let me help you,” Root offered, because the chicken was one whole piece. Root sliced it into smaller pieces and then got lost in being so close to Shaw and those lips that were about to taste it. 

“You’re not going to feed me, right?” Shaw said, teasing and trying to break Root’s gaze. 

“What? No,” Root said, slightly caught off guard with how easily she got lost. 

Shaw pushed her arm out of the sling so she could hold the plate as she scooped forkfuls of the delicious pasta and chicken into her mouth with her left hand. 

“Are you in any pain?” Root asked, because she was in agony sitting so close to Shaw. 

“No,” Shaw lied, but had to admit that Root was doing a good job of keeping her mind off things. 

Shaw wiped the plate clean with the last of the bread and drank down the glass of water. She wiped her mouth on the linen napkin that was totally out of place in her apartment. She was getting tired, but she grew afraid again of that slumber would bring.

“Well, you have an early day tomorrow,” Root said, because she figured Shaw out. Anyone else, she would have reminded them that they get sick leave or weeks of vacation that they can take to recuperate. But she knew the best medicine for Shaw was to get back to work. 

Oh, and she wasn’t letting Shaw out of her sight. That, too.  

Shaw had already prepared her speech of how she didn’t need any time off and she was ready to fight about that. Root didn’t give her one. “Oh, okay,” Sameen said, surprised she didn’t have to argue that she had every intention of going back to work tomorrow.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------  
As if the perfectly trained dog read everyone’s mind, he jumped up on the futon couch and stretched out. “Get off of there, Bear,” Root said with such an unconvincing tone, that the dog understood her in every language.

“He doesn’t sleep in your bed?” Shaw asked, surprised when Root said absolutely not.

“He’s got an early meeting,” Root said, to explain why she wasn’t demanding he get off the bed that only slept one.

That was starting not to sound strange to Sameen. “Well, I can’t really sleep, so you can take the bed,” she explained.

Root walked over to the large bed by the window. “It’s plenty big for both of us,” she said and her stomached turned because that sounded cheesy. “I mean, we could each have a half.” 

Shaw looked at her and then at the bed. The dog was already snoring.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” she said, because she had no intention of sleeping. 

She took off the sling, grabbed some shorts and went into the bathroom to attempt her ambidexterity. She wasn’t very good at it and Root heard her cursing when the toothpaste fell, her toothbrush fell, the soap slipped, and she had to try and change the toilet paper. As soon as Sameen opened the bathroom door, Root was standing there with the pain killers and a glass of water. She glared her displeasure, but Root was unfazed. “If I take these will you leave me alone?” Shaw asked, exasperated.  
“Of course,” Root said, handing them to the patient to take. 

“Fine!” Shaw said, relinquishing what little power she had. 

The problem, of course, was that the pain pills were going to make her sleepy, but the former doctor felt determined enough to fight that. Or, at least, not dream. 

She was going to lose both those battles. 

Root got ready for bed and lay down on top of the covers, to give Shaw the impression they weren’t actually sleeping together. Then, she adjusted the pillows under Sameen’s arm so that she was in the least amount of discomfort.

“It’s okay because I’m not ….really…..going ….to sleep,” Shaw said, unable to fight off the fatigue. 

“That’s my girl,” Root said and pulled the cover up over Shaw and turned to watch her. This wasn’t the ideal way Root pictured her sleeping with Shaw, but she was at least next to her. It wasn’t long before Root was sound asleep, too. It had been quite a day for both of them.

Quiet fell over the dark loft as the two women slept soundly. That was until, Shaw started to dream again and moan Root’s name. Root woke up in a heartbeat, thinking Shaw’s pain had returned.

But the expression on Sameen’s face was not pain.

It was pure…unadulterated…… delight.


	37. Butterflies in Her Stomach

Root may have been a tech genius with limitless creativity, but she was nearing the end of her boundaries with resisting Shaw. The woman was right there- moaning her name in a way Root had never heard anyone say her name. Shaw was lost in her dream again, except this time; it was layered with the knowledge that Root knew her so well. The guns laid out on the table waiting proved that to her. “Oh, God, Root!” Shaw’s voice said in an angelic whisper and Root was right there to hear it. She didn’t dare disturb Shaw, but she couldn’t help but bend down and kiss those swollen lips that called her name. Whatever Sameen was dreaming, Root wanted to affirm it.

It was the gentlest of kisses and not the sort Root dreamed of. Her fantasy one included pushing Shaw up against the wall of her office, or an elevator, or her apartment, or …anywhere. She was like something wound up, so there would be nothing short of explosive, she thought. But, here she was, in bed with Shaw, kissing her gently and responsible for putting the biggest smile on Shaw’s face.

The important thing, Root told herself, is that it was happening. She just had to wait for it to come to the surface.

Or she could provoke it. Yes, that put a smile on Root’s face.

When Shaw emerged from the second time of that glorious dream, she tried to fight waking up. “Noooo,” she groaned as she realized where she was. Her arm immediately shot over to feel if Root was there, or if that was part of her dream. She felt Root’s back facing her, sound asleep. Or was she? Root didn’t let on she was awake; hoping Shaw would feel her dream had some privacy.

“Oh, good morning,” Root said, seconds later. “How are you feeling?” she asked as she turned to face her hostess.

Shaw had to think about that. She was so caught up in her dream that she had to will herself to feel her body. “I think okay,” she said.

‘ _So, this is how you wake up in the morning_ ,’ Root said to herself as she stared down at the most beautiful face she had ever seen.

“I have to get ready for work because, my boss? She’s a real pain,” Shaw teased and sat up, wincing only a little. “Let’s take a look at your head,” she said, remembering Root’s wound.

Root was up and sitting next to Shaw in a heartbeat, bending her head down so Shaw could touch it. “If you get me a facecloth and the salve, I can put it on.”

“Are you sure? Maybe I can manage,” Root said, but even Bear shot her a look from his bed that read – _really_?

“No, it’s okay,” Shaw said, and Root was so relieved. Her heart started to beat faster in her chest as she did as the doctor ordered. She returned with the facecloth and salve. “Put you head on this pillow,” Shaw instructed so she could reach the cut with her left hand. Root lay down, her face sideways so Shaw could dab the wound with the face cloth. As soon as Shaw’s hand touched her, Root’s face bore the widest smile and her body shivered.

“Okay, it looks clean and the sutures are holding,” Shaw reported as she inspected the other doctor’s work. “Not bad,” she assessed as she asked Root to open the salve and put some on the swab. Then she deftly put it on the wound. “Does that feel okay?” Shaw asked.

“That..feels…great,” Root couldn’t help but say in a dreamy tone. She didn’t even care that Shaw was rolling her eyes. “Well,” Root said, sitting up. “You did mine, now let me do yours.”

“I got it,” Shaw said, getting up.

“Sit down,” Root said in the sternest voice Shaw had ever heard her use. Even Bear picked his head up. “I’m not going to let you be all macho and not let me help with that,” she said, her hands on her hips.

“Geesh, okay,” Shaw said, too early to do battle. She let Root slip off the sling and gently pick up the bandage. “What are those instructions?” she said, going through her bag to find the papers the nurse gave her. “Okay, here,” she said, coming back and with a new sterilized gauze pad. She gently removed the old bandage and stared for a minute at the marred skin where the bullet was removed. “You really are the bravest person I know,” she said sincerely. Shaw nodded her thanks. Root could feel tears building at the sight of Shaw’s pain. She gently taped the pad in place.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Root asked, wondering how you manage that.

“You have to put it in a baggie,” Shaw said, and instructed Root how to tape the plastic over the affected area.

“I’m standing right outside,” Root said definitely.

Shaw thought she meant the bathroom door; Root meant the shower.

Sameen tolerated the help, mostly because of the excellent job Root did of not giving her a choice. When she was done, Root held the robe open for her to step into. Then she excused herself to take a quick shower.

A cold, quick shower.

* * *

The women went off to work; early of course, because, you know, Bear had a meeting. Root didn’t want to crowd Sameen, so she told her she would see her later that morning to go over her next events.

Shaw was to report to Reese.

John decided he knew a thing or two about how Shaw was feeling and would do his best to help her. In John’s mind, this meant giving her a hard time so she could complain.

“How are you feeling?” Reese asked when Shaw got off the elevator.

“Like crap,” she said back.

“Good to have you back,” John noted.

"Jury’s still out on that,” Shaw retorted.

“Can you write with your left hand?” he asked, holding a stack of Form 675’s in his hand.

“No, but I can do other things with it,” she said, staring at the forms, but not taking them.

“I’ll help you!” squealed Janine, who upon seeing Shaw, ran down the length of the aisle. “How are you? Can I get you anything? Have you had coffee? I’ll get you coffee. Sugar and milk, right?” the woman blathered, trying to be helpful.

John smiled, but Shaw didn’t like what he was thinking. “No!” she said, but it was too late.

He turned and handed the forms to the eager admirer. “I think Shaw needs a lot of help with these,” he said and it was like holding bait over starving fish. The woman snatched them out of John’s hand. “I can help. Do you want them typed or hand written? “

“Who the hell uses forms anyway?” Shaw said, as Janine gently turned her around and led her down the hallway to her cubicle. “GET MS. SHAW HER COFFEE!” she yelled to her coworkers who were all on alert.

“I’ll get you for this, Reese,” Shaw said, turning around.

“See if Ms. Shaw needs a new company shirt, would you, Janine,” he said, not to be outdone.

Janine did get Shaw coffee …and donuts…..and anything else she wanted…..and she dutifully filled out the forms online for Shaw so she was up to date.

Even Martine dropped by to say hello.

“Must be nice to have someone do your work for you,” she smiled as she extended her right hand to shake Shaw’s ….and then put out her left. “That’s awkward,” she noted. “I guess you’ll have to put off our match until your shoulder is all healed. What will that be, about two or three months?”

Janine stood up, but she was no match for Martine. “Ms. Groves has a Belgian shepherd; you have a Chihuahua,” Martine said, annoyed how everyone liked Shaw so quickly.

“What is your problem?” Shaw snapped at her.

Of course, Martine couldn’t answer that question. She couldn’t admit that she was jealous or that she really wanted Shaw to like her, but she kept going about it the wrong way. She couldn’t admit she hated that John seemed to like Shaw better and Martine had been working so hard to be John’s favorite. All of that would have been too embarrassing. Instead, she said – “Welcome back,” and walked away.

“I don’t like her!” Janine said, sitting back down.

“I dreamed I punched her,” Shaw laughed, sharing it with her cohort. Janine laughed, too, but that made Shaw remember about the dream. And then she remembered that she had the same dream again. “I have to go,” Sameen said, getting up and going straight to the one person who could answer her question.

* * *

“You can’t go in….,” Iris’ secretary said, but Shaw was too fast. She was inside before the woman got out of her seat.

“Doc?” Shaw said, not noticing that the woman actually had someone in her office.

“Ms. Shaw?” Iris said, hoping to catch Shaw’s eye so she’d realize someone else was there.  But Sameen was already pacing, looking up at the ceiling. “What does it mean when you have a dream about someone? I mean, is it a wish or is it just junk left over from your miserable day that you use when you’re drugged?”

There was silence until Sameen turned and saw why. “Ms. Shaw, I’m in session,” Dr. Campbell said and Shaw looked at the man on the couch.

He had heard about Sameen and how she saved his boss’ life. She was a BEAR hero and he wasn’t going to interfere with her wanting to talk.

“No, it’s fine, Dr. Campbell. Anything I can do to help Ms. Shaw here would be my pleasure,” said the man who stood up and shook Shaw’s left hand and then left.

“That was nice,” Shaw said, smiling at Iris, who was not pleased with what just happened.

“Ms. Shaw, I’d be happy to meet with you any time, if you would just make an appointment,” Iris explained, trying to keep some order.

“How do people know if they want to talk about what’s bothering them at the exact time they have an appointment?” Shaw countered.

“Well, because….,” Iris tried, but Shaw wasn’t waiting.

“I think you should just have an open door policy; let people come in whenever they want to so they can talk to you at the exact moment something is going on,” Shaw postulated.

“And what exactly is bothering you, Sameen?” Iris asked, because she had to admit when psychologists talk about their most difficult client, it’s often their favorite client, too.

The thing Shaw detested most about these sessions was the amount of time they spent talking about her.

“So,” Sameen said, sitting down on the couch. “I have this friend. Let’s call him, Lionel.”


	38. Made to Order

Sameen realized she may have jumped the gun here. What she wanted was general information, but she was going to get specific questions.

“So, your friend?” Iris prompted and broke Shaw’s staring off into space.

“Yeah,” Shaw continued, rubbing her left hand along her leg. “He’s having this dream. And …yeah…he asked me what I thought. I said, it’s nothing. You know, it’s probably drugs messing with his REM sleep pattern.”

“Your friend is taking drugs?” Iris asked, grabbing for the pad and pen, an action that Shaw noticed immediately.

“No, what? No, think of this more as a fact finding expedition, Doc. Just two people talking about someone else’s screwed up dreams and trying to find her…him ….an answer. No need for notes,” Shaw said emphatically.

“Could I interrupt us for a second?” Iris asked, putting down the pad as requested.

Shaw wanted to point out that she just did, but answered - ‘sure’ instead; especially since she had no idea where she was going with any of this.

“I heard about yesterday,” Iris started. “I wanted to ask how you’re feeling.”

“Oh, that? This?” Shaw answered, happy to answer questions that had nothing to do with dreams. “I was doing my job. Occupational hazard. Like you and….,” Shaw said, trying to think of the equivalent. “People being anxious and spilling their coffee on your couch.” Sameen cringed at how bad a simile that was.

“Are you feeling anxious about being here?” the therapist asked. The thin line that Iris Campbell walked whenever Shaw was in her office was no wider than a hair’s breadth ….and she knew it.

This answer Shaw knew. Unequivocally. Sameen looked up, making direct eye contact. “I don’t do anxious.”

Iris could have countered with – let’s agree to disagree, but she was very respectful of Shaw. “Okay, so let’s get back to your friend, Lionel.”

“Just his dreams,” Shaw clarified.

“Okay,” Iris agreed, willing to play along. “Well, according to Freud, every dream represents a wish fulfilment, meaning that the strange sexual fantasy you had about something that one time probably says something significant about your needs,” she began  
as a background. “But…”

“Who said it was sexual? I didn’t say it was sexual. I never said sexual,” Shaw declared in the classic ‘ _Me thinks the lady doth protest too much_ ’ fashion.

“No, I was just giving you ….I thought you wanted some general ideas,” Iris said, wishing she could grab her pad because there was a long list of things she wanted to write down.

“I have a medical background, Doc,” Shaw said, playing the – _I’m smart, so get to the punchline_ card.

“Modern psychology believes that most dreams are likely a means of coping with a major life stress. We associate through dreams to previous similar feelings, and you work through the emotion related to it so that it is reduced by morning,” Iris shared.

“That’s what’s wrong with psychology. Why can’t they just mean …nothing? Why do they have to mean….. anything?” Shaw asked, getting agitated.

“Are …is your friend upset by the dream?” Iris asked, not wanting to lose Shaw.

“No!” was her immediate reaction and caught herself smiling. “Yes, I mean he’s okay with it, because it’s a dream, right? It’s not real. He was just ….you know …wondering if it meant …..if it was what he really wanted ….or is it just something that’s going to keep repeating?”

“So, he’s had the dream more than once?” Iris caught and asked, and Shaw smiled and pursed her lips.

“You’re good, I’ll give you that, Doc,” she had to admit. “Yeah, he’s had it twice and so that’s why ….he came to me…asking me what I knew about ….dreams.”

“Sameen, I think it would be safe to say that your friend’s dreams mean something…… to him. We play out a number of things – things that have happened that are still on our minds; things we want to work out; and yes, even our unconscious wishes for something to happen,” the psychologist said, smiling.

Sameen paid close attention to that last statement. She wasn’t sure if she was happy or not about that. “That’s all you got?” she asked in what was becoming a tit-for-tat verbal exchange.

“Unless your friend wanted to share some of the details. Then, I could maybe ask specific questions about the content. Who the other person is that he’s dreaming about? What specific feelings, if any, he has for that person,” Iris listed.

“Yeah, he wouldn’t want to do that. He’s kinda private. Really private,” Shaw repeated as she looked around to make sure the exit door hadn’t been moved. “Well, this has been …fun. Thanks for your help,” she said, getting up and scowling just a little with her shoulder pain.

“Is someone helping you with that?” Iris asked, because it was her right shoulder.

“Oh yeah, she’s helping up a storm,” Shaw replied, rolling her eyes.

“Well, any time you want to talk, I’m here,” Iris offered because she found Sameen fascinating. And, she really wanted to help her.

Sameen didn’t miss the warm tone, the caring gestures, and the sincerity of the therapist. She decided right then and there, she would be a perfect match with Fusco!

* * *

She walked out of the office to find Janine was right there, with a message. “The boss wants to see you.”

“Is she okay?” Shaw asked, remembering Root’s injury.

“Yes, she said to meet her in the dining hall,” Janine explained.

“Yes!” Shaw said, remembering how good the food was the other day at BEAR. She took the elevator there and saw Root waiting outside the room for her.

“How’s your head?” Shaw asked, making Root turn around so she could see it.

“You’re the expert; you tell me,” Root asserted, waiting for Shaw to touch her hair again.

“Okay, we’ll put more salve on that later,” Shaw said and Root couldn’t wait. “So, what’s for lunch?”

“Well, I thought you’d enjoy a special treat today,” Root explained, holding the door open to the BEAR dining room.

“Is this for real?” Shaw said, because the room looked like a four star restaurant. There were waiters walking around and food stations that people were getting dishes at. Shaw looked around at all the delicious food, as people murmured that the CEO was in their presence.

“This is for employees?” Shaw asked amazed, walking in with all the awe of a kid walking into Disney World for the first time.

“Yes,” Root answered, never as proud of the idea as she was that moment to see Sameen so happy.

“Oh, my God,” Shaw exclaimed when she saw the dessert bar.

“But this, is for you,” Root said, gently directing Shaw in the direction she wanted her to walk.

“But, I want….,” Shaw argued, until she saw the length of the sandwich bar up ahead.

“Look at the menu,” Root whispered and Shaw’s head shoot up to read the long list of every conceivable option …including Shaw’s favorite.

“Oh, you guys have your own version,” Shaw said, not wanting to appear disrespectful, but not even going near the counter.

“We were going to call it the “ _Bear-trice Lillie_ ”,” Root said, and Shaw actually felt her stomach hurt at how sacrilegious she found that. “We worked that out at his meeting this morning.”

“Okay, that’s nice and all…..,” Shaw said, and would have carried on more until she heard a wooden spoon slap the counter and a woman yelled- _NEXT_! - in a very familiar accent. Shaw turned to see the owner of Parks Deli standing behind the counter.

“What happened to you?” the woman asked, in a less than caring tone.

“I…was…shot….?” Shaw answered, trying to wrap her head around the fact that the woman was there.

“You asking me, or telling me,” the woman barked. “I have line. You ready to order?”

“What the hell….,” Shaw stammered.

“Order or go!” the woman shouted in her usual harsh tone.

Shaw turned to look at Root, who was standing there, all smiles, that she negotiated a deal this woman could not resist. If Shaw didn’t want someone else to make her sandwich, Root got the woman who made it the way she liked it to come here.

“I’m not feeling sorry because you were careless enough to get shot. You want a sandwich?” the woman yelled.

“I wasn’t careless,” Shaw shouted back and Root bit her lip with excitement that this might actually work.

“So you say. NEXT!” the woman yelled, waving Shaw over. Instead, Shaw moved right up to the counter.

“Do you still remember how to make it?” Shaw asked, smirking.

“I make it the way I always make it; the way it’s supposed to be made. Yellow mustard, pepperoncini, and……mayo,” the woman said because she knew the word irritated her customer.

“Look, I want both mustards, not one, and a lot of pepperoncini, not that little spoonful you usually put on. NO MAYO… I don’t’ know why I have to say this every time I order the sandwich,” Shaw complained.

“You think I remember you? I have hundreds of customers,” the woman declared even though Shaw was the only one in line.

* * *

 

As if she pulled off the perfect heist, Root stood there bouncing up on the balls of her feet, smiling. Telling the store owner she could open up “ _Parks Deli North_ ” right in the BEAR building was truly a gift. “No rent? What’s the deal?” the smart business owner asked suspiciously. Root had two conditions – the owner had to be there herself at lunch time to make Shaw’s sandwich. And nothing about their exchange…..could alter.

_“You don’t want me to just make the sandwich the way that crazy lady wants it?” the business woman asked._

_“No! That will ruin it,” Root explained as if that made all the sense in the world._

* * *

 

“If you even _think_ of putting mayo on it, we’ll have to start all over,” Shaw warned, as she had done every time she ordered the sandwich.

“Yeah, yeah,” the woman muttered as she wrapped up the sandwich and put it in a brown paper bag and not on a tray.

“Are there chips in there?” Shaw asked.

“Did you ask for chips? Chips extra,” the woman barked and grabbed a bag and put them in with the sandwich. “Ten dollars, sixty two cents,” the woman said, holding onto the bag.

Shaw looked over at Root because she was surprised that people had to pay for their own lunches, given the elaborate dining facility. She was right.

People didn’t. Just Shaw.

Shaw pulled out a ten and a five dollar bill and put it on the counter.

“You want change?” the woman asked, goading Shaw into a tip.

“Yes, I want ….no, don’t bother,” Shaw said, because underneath it all, she would pay any price for this meal.

The woman took the remaining money and put it in jar labeled - ‘TIPS”. Then, when Shaw grabbed the bag containing her lunch and turned around, the woman gave Root a big wink. It had worked out just as they panned it.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Shaw said, distracted by the luncheon diatribe, “Do you want something?” she asked Root.

“I have something waiting up in my office,” Root said and asked Shaw if she’d like to join her.

Of course, that was the whole point.

* * *

 

Shaw went with Root to her office and sat at the table that was already prepared with Root’s meal. Shaw struggled with the paper bag, until Root came to the rescue.

“Two hands are better than one,” she said as Shaw grabbed the food.

“Let’s see if she really made it the right way,” Shaw said, pushing the sandwich into her mouth with one hand. “It’s …okay,” she said, even though it tasted better than ever. “So, how did you convince her?”

“Come on, Sameen,” Root smiled with her lips and eyes. “I can be _very_ convincing.”

“Did you…..(bite, chew) …..get her….(bite, chew) ……here, just…..(bite, chew) for me?” Shaw asked and watched as Root’s face lit up that Shaw was pleased.

“Maybe,” Root said, but the smile burst on her blushing face.

“Rich people …,” Shaw shook her head, attributing this to the fact that Root was used to getting what she wanted.

There was a knock on the door and John poked his head in. “Oh, there you are,” he said when he saw Shaw eating.

“She needs her strength, John,” Root said and John wasn’t entirely sure how she meant that. Root held the wrapper open so Shaw could eat the food.

“Aren’t you afraid of getting bit?” he asked teasingly when he saw how close Root’s hand was to the sandwich.

“I’m actually counting on it,” Root all but giggled, staring at Shaw’s mouth …..and confusing both her guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are great for hanging on so long. I would have warned you if I had known it was going to be this long!  
> Many thanks for all your posts.


	39. Reap What You Sow

Root had been so busy thinking of ways to make things just so for Shaw, she was forgetting to tap into her feelings that she experienced when others intruded in their space. The way John was doing now.

“Did you want something?” she asked pointedly.

“I want Shaw,” John answered plainly because he felt it was obvious.

“What for?” Root asked, and crossed her arms and sat back in her chair.

“You told Fusco you’re going to the Policeman’s Ball tonight,” John answered. “I just needed to go over the set up.”

“Okay,” Root said, forgetting it was her idea. “When she’s done eating.”

"I don’t think we can wait that long,” John said sincerely, forcing a smile.

“If it…..weren’t ….for the fact……that this is heaven,” Shaw said between bites. “I’d say something.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want you to talk with your mouth full,” John said because she was doing just that.

“Sameen will be down as soon as she finishes, John,” Root said and sounded so stern that John frowned.

He had been with his boss long enough to know when she got on a pet project, there was no letting go. And right now – it looked like Shaw was her latest. He didn’t think Shaw was aware enough to take advantage of it, but if she did, all hell would break loose, he thought.

“Do…we…have to dress up for this?” Shaw asked when she heard what they were doing.

“Only if you want to,” Root said, Shaw’s dress already picked out. “I just thought you might like …..,” she said getting up. “This.”

“Dat’s nice,” Shaw said, enjoying the last bite of her sandwich. She did enjoy dressing up as long as she didn’t have to do the actual shopping.

“Oh, I’m so pleased,” Root said. She had ordered a dress with only one sleeve to make it easier for Shaw to dress.

“Look, Root, I hate to admit this, but I’m not much of a security guard with my arm in this sling,” Shaw said, because she took her responsibilities seriously. “Maybe you should bring John or …….someone. “

“John doesn’t really like this event,” Root shared, smiling at Shaw.

“Then…and I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but, maybe you should have Martine there ….as back up,” Shaw suggested.

“But you’ll still come, right? I mean, I’d like you to stay close and Martine can watch from…..afar,” Root said. “I get hit on a lot,” she added, explaining why she needed Shaw close.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Shaw said, making her educated assessment. Root was, after all, beautiful, rich, and some felt crazy as hell; the very definition of a good time for a lot of people. “We should have a code word, though. I mean, how will I know if you don’t want a guy to hit on you as opposed to a guy you might be interested in?” This was Shaw, the body guard talking and she was all about logistics.

Root stared at her for a minute, thinking best how to answer that. Part of her wanted to say – Are you kidding me? – but, she knew where Sameen was coming from. Her analytical mind was going to try to make this work in her favor. “Okay, Sameen,” she said, her gaze fixed on Shaw. “If someone is near me that I don’t want to be near, I’ll say ‘noise’,” she explained.

“And if it’s someone you want to stay near you?” Shaw asked, crunching on potato chips.

Root sat back in her chair and looked at Sameen. She eyed her beautiful face, her gorgeous hair pulled back in a ponytail, her incredibly toned body. “Symphony,” she answered because that is the word that came to mind when she drank in Sameen. “Yes, definitely symphony,” she smiled giddily. “As in we can make beautiful music together.”

“I should have known it would be something weird,” Shaw said, rolling her eyes. “So, if a guy is bothering you, you’ll say something like – I can’t stand the noise in here - and then I’ll know to give him his walking papers, right?” Shaw asked, because she liked to be clear.

“Yes,” Root confirmed. “And…?”

“And, if you want to be with someone, you’ll say something like – I really enjoy the symphony - and I’ll know that it’s someone you want to be with,” Sameen finished.

“It’s very important, Sameen, that you memorize this,” her boss instructed as if it had been her idea.

“Yeah, I know, that’s why I came up with it,” Shaw huffed. “Okay, so I’ll tell Martine and see you later, I guess.”

“You can get undressed up here if you want,” Root slipped because her mind was on making music.

“What?” Shaw asked, because her mind was on having to deal with the overzealous coworker.

This was getting harder and harder for Root. “Your dress? It’s up here, so if you wanted to get dressed here, that would be fine.”

“Sure,” Shaw said because logistically, it made sense. “Thanks for …lunch.”  With that, Shaw closed the door behind her and Root fell back into the chair.

* * *

 

Bear came into her office through another door, climbed up in the chair next to her at the table and stared.

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold out, Bear,” Root said honestly. “There are times where just being next to her sends me over the edge.”

The dog whined his concern, seeing how he felt he knew both women.

“Yes! I’m letting her go at her own pace, but dammit Bear, I’m human,” Root complained, to which Bear let out a low growl as a reminded to be grateful she had gotten this far.  “I know, I know,” Root said smiling; understanding her confidant’s message. “Who's got two thumbs and kissed that girl?” she said, sticking her thumbs out and pointing to herself. “You always make me feel better,” she said, petting the dog's head affectionately.

* * *

Shaw took a deep breath and walked into the conference room where Martine was meeting with a few fellow security coworkers. “Could I interrupt you for a minute?” Shaw asked, after she barged in.

“Nice entrance, Shaw,” one of the guys teased because she was always a welcomed sight.  
“Yeah, so …you got a minute?” she asked Martine, who detested disruptions.

“Shaw, I’m in the middle of a very important meeting. What could you possibly have to say that can’t wait until later?” Martine demanded to know.

“Oh, sure, never mind,” Shaw said, and turned to walk out. “I just thought,” she said, turning back, “that you’d want to know that Ms. Groves asked for you to be her backup bodyguard tonight.”

Martine had never gotten to go on detail with the CEO. It was the pinnacle of one’s career at BEAR to be personally requested by her. She shot up so fast from her chair - that it went flying and tipped over. She grabbed Shaw by her left shoulder. “Are you doing this to be a bitch?” Martine asked snidely.

Shaw looked at the woman, and then looked down at the woman’s hand on her shoulder. When she looked back up, her expression was clear – ‘ _Get your hands off me!’_ Martine immediately let go.

“Look, I can’t provide her with adequate …..,” Shaw started.

“Because you’re hurt, right, and can’t do your job? So, she asked for me?” Martine said, trying to convince herself that second place was still a move up.

Sameen let out a long sigh because as annoying as this woman was, she recognized how desperate she was, too.

“Yeah, something like that,” Shaw said, rolling her eyes.

“Okay, then, yes!” Martine said, strutting back to the table now like the peacock she was. “See guys? This is what happens when you work hard, keep your nose to the grindstone and do excellent work,” she lectured.

“We thought it’s what happens when Shaw gets shot saving her boss’ life?” one of the men retorted, drawing a death glare from Martine.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, finding this whole exchange sophomoric, “See you there. Oh, and Martine?” she said, before leaving, “Whatever you do, don’t wear that!” she said, pointing to the white polo shirt.

* * *

Sameen walked outside and saw Fusco talking to John.  “Do either of you really have full time jobs, because this bromance is like on every channel,” Shaw said, embarrassing two birds with one quip.

“He thinks I’m BEAR’s personal messenger,” Fusco quipped. “Tickets for the New York City Police Foundation Gala,” he said, handing John the tickets.

“John still thinks it’s called the Policeman’s Ball,” Shaw laughed. “Because he’s stuck in the seventies.”

John knew two could play this game and he saw the perfect opportunity. “Hey, Doc,” he called to Iris Campbell who was walking up behind Shaw. “Did you need Shaw here to make her next appointment?”

She had recommended that Sameen come in for at least three more visits. Iris frowned at John for announcing this in front of someone else. “John,” she said, cautioning him.

“Oh, Dr. Campbell, this is Detective Fusco,” John said, introducing them.

“How do you do?” Iris said, and Lionel put his hand out.

“Just call me Lionel,” the detective said, his face all smiles.

Sameen started to worry that Iris, who never seemed to miss a trick, or a word for that matter, would recognize the name. “Well, we should all be getting back….,” she said, nervously, trying to dismiss everyone, but no one was paying attention.

“Iris is our resident psychologist,” John said proudly.

“Oh, a shrink!” Lionel said, using the less than attractive vernacular.

“We prefer psychologist,” Iris said and Lionel apologized.

“Well, this has been informative,” Sameen was saying, but with only one arm, she couldn’t drag Lionel away.

“You know, I always wanted to ask you people something,” Lionel said, the way people ask questions about the wiring in their house when they meet an electrician.

“You don't want to bother her, Lionel!” Shaw said so emphatically, that that’s what made Iris think about the man’s name.  Fusco pushed her hand away. 

“Do all people dream?” I mean, I know you guys like analyze them, right? But the funny thing is, I never dream. I mean, maybe I do, but I never remember dreaming,” Lionel yammered on. “Do you dream, Shaw?”

Sameen, desperate to get her friend to shut the hell up, kicked him in the ankle. The international sign for stop what you're doing! But Lionel couldn’t imagine what he did, so he asked Shaw – “What’d you do that for?”

“Sorry,” Sameen said, but she didn’t mean it for Lionel. She was sorry for being in this very awkward position.

Iris connected the dots immediately and realized that this accidental meeting was giving her all kinds of information. She was beginning to think she should never walk around without her pad and pen.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Lionel,” Iris said and by the way she said the detective’s name, Shaw was certain she knew. “I look forward to seeing you soon, Sameen,” Iris said, smiling and walking away.

Shaw smacked Lionel’s arm, pursing her lips. “What did I do?” he asked, because he really had no idea.

“Nothing,” Shaw said, because of course it wasn’t his fault she lied and used his name.

“Maybe she could help you with those anger issues,” Lionel yelled, holding his arm where she hit him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shaw said, walking down the aisle.

Fusco waited until she was far enough away before he turned to John. “I will never understand women.”

“I wouldn’t confuse Shaw for women,” John tried to comfort his friend.

* * *

  
Iris went straight to her office, asking her next appointment to wait a few minutes more. She hurried inside and got out her pad and pen and wrote down all of her thoughts and questions.  
“W _hy would Sameen lie about someone else having her dream? What was that dream?_ ” she wrote.

She buzzed her secretary and asked her to please follow up with Sameen Shaw for her next appointment.


	40. The Meal Plan

Harold was pleasantly surprised that his niece was suddenly so interested in attending many of the New York charity events that were near and dear to his heart. If Harold Finch was about anything, it was about paying it forward. He had several charities that he had hoped Root would share his interest in. Usually, she was too busy with work to attend, but suddenly, he noticed, her calendar was filled with these engagements. He was happy to see that she wasn’t spending all her time at work, and finally taking a break in the evening.

Harold didn’t realize just how hard Root was actually working. She decided that her attendance at these events would require her bodyguard, and therein lie the sudden appeal for Root. The more events she had to go to, the more time she had with Shaw.

“Did I tell you my code words?” she shouted out to Bear as she got dressed that evening in her office’s private room. “ _Noise_ ; if I don’t want to be with the person, which, let’s face it,” she explained, “….Will be everyone.”

The dog whined and Root remembered she didn’t finish her thought. “Oh, and if I do want to stay with the person, I will say ‘ _symphony_.’ And do you know why I picked that word?” she asked as if he could answer. “Because, I mean, look at her,” Root said, stopping what she was doing and staring off into space at just the thought. “The beautiful eyes, that killer jawline, those lips, the gorgeous hair with the strands that hang down in her face,” Root said and her hand actually played with her own hair to demonstrate. “And don’t get me started on how toned her body is!”

Bear whimpered and stretched out because even a dog can sense when a human is about to contradict their own declarative statements.

“Those arms? They’re like steel. Did you ever see how flexible she is? Well, no, I haven’t either, but I would bet anything, she’s flexible,” Root answered, even though there had been no question. “Anyway, I think the more time we spend together, the more Shaw will see that we could be as symphonic as the best masterpieces.”

The dog shot up from his sprawled position and barked loudly. He couldn’t have agreed more.

* * *

John was going over the final details of the Waldorf Astoria, where the event was being held. He seriously doubted that his boss would need security detail in a room of police officers, but he was doing what was requested. “There are several exits in the large ballroom where the main event takes place,” he said to Shaw and Martine.

“In the event of an attack, I will take Ms. Groves out immediately to the car,” Martine reported.

“In the event the food sucks, I’ll be ordering take-out,” Shaw said and then saw how serious her coworkers were. “Ahem,” she cleared her throat, getting back on track.

“Shaw, Ms. Groves has requested that you stay with her in the crowd and at dinner. Rousseau, you’ll be positioned up here in the balcony,” John instructed and pointed to their positions.

“Attire?” Martine asked seriously.

Shaw sat back and put her feet up on the conference table because she was pretty sure Martine was going to ask about every piece of clothing.

“Yes,” John answered because he had no idea what she was asking, other than should she wear some.

Shaw laughed and told John that’s the closest he had ever come to convincing her that he actually had a sense of humor. Martine couldn’t understand how John could like Shaw when she did nothing to kiss up to him.

“Got it!” Martine said, even though she didn’t.

When John walked out, Shaw shared that she would be in dressy attire. “You want to blend in,” she said to her coworker whose uptightness would surely make her stand out.

“Thanks, Shaw,” Martine said and was actually starting to mean it.

The two women walked out and were met by Janine. “Ms. Shaw, here are all your credentials for this evening. Now, if you’re bringing in a gun, they’ll want to know that before, and you’ll have to show them this paper,” Janine said, all in one breathe.

“She can’t use a gun,” Martine snapped. “Do you not see the sling?”

Janine looked at the woman and then back at Shaw. “What color are you wearing, because if you’re wearing black, it will clash with that blue sling. I’ll get you a black one,” Janine said, thinking of everything.

“Where are my credentials?” Martine huffed.

Janine pulled back in surprise and asked; “You’re…. going?”

Shaw could see how bothered Martine was and offered – “She’s been requested by Ms. Groves.” Shaw was all about being there for the team, even if the team members aggravated the life out of you.

Janine still couldn’t believe it. “You were?” she asked, not to be disrespectful, but because it was unbelievable.

“Yes, she was,” Shaw said to her self-appointed administrative assistant. “So, please get her …whatever.”

“Of course, Ms. Shaw,” Janine said, because she would do anything for Shaw; even if it made no sense.

Martine had already thanked Sameen once that day. She couldn’t do it again. So, instead she nodded and said she’d see her later.

Shaw shook her head and again asked the burning question; “ _How is that therapist not just walking up and down these aisles_?”

* * *

By the time Sameen got upstairs to dress, Root was all ready and waiting.

“Let me see your stitches,” Shaw said to her boss, who eagerly turned around so they could be inspected.

“I’ll do yours, if you do mine,” Root said, smiling.

“Never gets old,” Shaw said, rolling her eyes. “Mine’s fine,” she added, taking the sling off and peaking at it herself. “I heal well,” she shared and Root’s eyed were glued to the bare shoulder. In fact, her eyes stayed fixated while Shaw applied a little more mascara and lipstick before going into Root’s private bathroom to get dressed.

“Do you need help with anything?” Root called in and prayed to the gods she did.

“Well, seeing how this is one sleeve and I’m wearing a bra,” Shaw surmised as she looked at the clothing.

“I can help,” Root replied quickly, and closed her eyes and swallowed hard at how weak her voice sounded.

Shaw didn’t seem to notice. “Thanks,”she said, turning so Root could help with the bra hooks.

She looked at the scars on Shaw’s back; the ones she noticed the first time she saw her bare. This time, she had to ask. “Old wounds?” she inquired, trying to sound nonchalant as her fingers touched Shaw’s skin.  
“I used to play in some pretty rough neighborhoods,” Shaw answered, meaning her time spent abroad.

“Oh,” Root said, feeling bad that Sameen seemed to take this all in stride. Someday, Root decided, she would find out who hurt Sameen and have them hunted down. One at a time.

“Stockings?” Root said, holding them up. For sure, Shaw couldn’t do those by herself.

“No, I think I’ll forgo them, seeing as I’m on duty and no one will notice me,” Shaw said, pulling the black, one shoulder dress that was a perfect fit, up over herself. “I don’t know how you manage to get my exact size,” Shaw said in amazement.

“I told you,” Root smiled as she zipped her up, “I have a good eye for this. I just have to see something once, and I can remember it in detail,” she added; her eyes smoldering from remembering seeing that body naked.

“Okay, yeah,” Shaw said, feeling the heat of Root’s gaze.

“Do you remember our code words?” Root asked, because she felt it was very important.

“Are a lot of cops going to be hitting on you? I mean, with their superior officers right there?” Shaw inquired out loud.

This was a plan that Root came up with and she was going to make it work. “What makes you think it isn’t the higher ups that do the hitting?” she asked.

“Oh! Got it,” Shaw said, proving she was still a little naïve about Root’s scheming aptitude.

* * *

The person who wasn’t naïve was John. He had spent enough time with Root to know her patterns. She hated these types of events and had often refused to go. Joss Carter had asked him to attend as her date. He accepted her invitation gladly. It would also give him an opportunity to watch his boss in action to confirm what he suspected; Shaw may be the bodyguard, but Root was doing the protecting.

That evening, the group all met at the bar. Harold was with Grace; John was with Joss; and Root had Sameen at her side. Root excused herself for just a moment, setting things in motion.  
“Well, I’ll be,” Harold said, as he eyed Fusco coming into the room.

“Never seen him in a tuxedo?” Shaw asked, as she was taking a sip of her drink.

“Never seen him with a date,” John said dryly.

“Dr. Campbell?” Harold uttered and Shaw choked on her drink.

“Good evening, everyone,” Lionel said in the happiest tone Shaw had ever heard him use.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Shaw asked, and then remembered there were others standing right there. “I mean..”

“It’s the _Police_ Foundation Gala; I’m a _policeman_ ,” Lionel answered slowly.

“Dr. Campbell, it is so good to see you,” Harold said and introduced Grace.

“I have family on the force,” Iris explained because she could understand that it might look like she and Lionel came together, but they hadn’t. They met in the lobby and walked in together. She did, however, find Sameen’s reaction interesting.

“So, you’re not here…..with him,” Shaw said and Iris confirmed that she wasn’t. Then, she excused herself and went over to her family.

“For a minute there, Fusco, I thought you asked the doc to be your date,” Shaw said, teasing her friend.

“Oh, I asked,” Lionel confirmed. “But she said she had to decline for _professional_ reasons. You know, seeing how you’re her patient and all.”

It would be the second time Shaw choked on her drink. “Her _what_!” she asked, completely falling for Fusco’s explanation. Iris did say she would love to go with him, and did decline for professional reasons, citing a conflict of interest. It was a short distance to connect that to his good friend. “I am not,” Shaw said. “Did she say that? Isn’t that supposed to be confidential?” Shaw declared, giving herself away.

Lionel doubled over, he was laughing so hard. “Shaw, you’re getting easier,” he said and pulled back when she went to hit him.

Root returned in time to see what was going on. “Are you okay, Sweetie?” she asked, which of course is the way all employers speak to their security guards.

“I swear to God, Fusco,” Shaw was saying as Root gently took her by the shoulder and led her away; throwing Lionel a chastising look.

“You better be careful, Fusco,” Joss said. “When she gets use of her arm back, I think you’re going to be in trouble.”

John nodded his head in agreement. He didn’t think Shaw would forget this. Now, he was busy watching Root come to Shaw’s rescue – again.

“No, she can take a joke,” Lionel said laughing and then stopped. “You think she knows it’s a joke, right?”

“I’m not so sure it’s Shaw you have to worry about,” John said in his usual cryptic manner.

* * *

Root did her best to get Sameen away from the teasing. “Let’s just go to our table,” Root said and was suddenly approached by a member of the Mayor’s Office.

“I would love to….,” he was about to say, indicating that he was enjoying the short conversation they had before when Shaw was talking to Fusco.

“Oh, hello, Steve,” Root said as if they hadn’t seen each other in a long time.

“Hi,” he said, confused. She had approached him not five minutes before. Steve didn’t realize he was part of an elaborate plan that Root was building. “So, why don’t we get that drink?” he was suggesting when Root complained; “Sorry, Steve, I can’t hear you above all this…… _noise_.”

Steve looked over at the quartet playing soft music in the corner. Root’s voice had been louder than the music they were playing.

“Let’s go, Steve,” Shaw said, picking up on the word. “Ms. Groves has a busy night ahead of her.”

Steve did a double take, as Shaw put her hand on his arm and led him away. He kept wondering how he misread Root’s cues.  
Of course, he hadn’t misread them; he understood them perfectly. He was being set up to test how quickly Shaw would come to Root’s rescue.

And as Root expected, Shaw did it beautifully.


	41. Cooking the Goose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this little 'twist' isn't painful.

John may not have known what Root’s secret words were, but he could detect a pattern of some sort. He had been at social events with the CEO and she was, for the most part, nothing short of flirtatious with the other guests. However, he rarely had to intervene, as the woman had all the skill she needed to encourage some, or discourage others. There were no code words for John because Root always had the situation under control.

“Are you jealous someone else has your job?” Joss whispered when they were seated at the large round table for dinner. She had been watching him, watch Root.

“No, Detective,” John whispered even lower than his usual pitch. “Watch what happens when someone approaches my boss.”

Out of pure curiosity, Joss followed John’s suggestion. Root had been talking to a large group of attendees when one lingered longer than the others. He was polite and seemed to be saying something that made her laugh. Shaw was to her side, eating the little hors d’oeuvres off of little tiny plates. “Everything looks normal to me,” Joss noted.

“Nothing is normal with that woman. But, just wait…,” John cautioned his date.

Then, as John had spotted before, while the conversation seemed to be going pleasantly, Root said something that caused Shaw to put down her food. _That, in and of itself, was cause for concern_. Then Shaw wiped her hand, put it on the man’s elbow and gently, but forcefully, guided him away.

“What is that all about?” Joss asked.

“She’s up to something,” John said, but conceded he wasn’t sure what. Yet.

Root didn’t want to tax Shaw’s condition – just yet – so she was just about to stop her game when a man walked up to her to speak. She didn’t want to be impolite, and was waiting for the right moment to give her word.

Unbeknownst to Root, Shaw had signaled for Martine to come downstairs. Sameen was almost certain she could see people being pushed out of the way on the staircase, as she made her way down tout de suite.

* * *

“I’m here!” she announced to Shaw a moment ago, as if that were even necessary.

“I noticed. Smooth entrance,” Sameen said. “I’m just running to the ladies room, so could you…?”

“Of course!” Martine said and almost saluted.

“Take it easy, Rousseau. This is a cake walk. She’s got two words you need to know,” Shaw explained and proceeded to tell her what the key words were and what they meant. This happened all behind Root’s back, as she was talking to the man. The guy had a couple of drinks in him and was already flirting with Root. She didn’t even have to set this guy up; he was annoying all on his own.

* * *

“Oh, this should be good,” John said, because he was almost certain Martine’s response would be nothing like Shaw’s.

Sure enough, when Root wanted to leave, she complained about the noise in the room. Martine was so thrilled to be working with Root, that when she heard the secret word, she exploded onto the scene, tackling the man to the floor. “I GOT HIM!” she said as she pounced on him, straddling his back as he lie face down.

“I better go straighten this out,” John said, getting up from his seat.

Root was surprised to see someone other than Shaw there and turned quickly to see where she was.

“Anything happen while I was …..oh,” Shaw said, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Really?”

“You told her the code words?” Root said.

“Well, yeah, she was guarding you,” Shaw explained, waving her hand up and down the length of her boss’ body.

John was helping Martine up and listening to his boss at the same time. “We’re very sorry,” he said to the disoriented man who didn’t know what hit him.

“But I heard the word!” Martine said defensively.

“Could I speak to you for a minute?” John said to Root. Now she knew that he knew.

* * *

John walked until they were outside the ballroom and could talk privately. It only took that long for John to piece together what he had witnessed.

“Are you …testing ……Shaw?” he asked, getting to the point.

“Well,” Root said, her face blushing a little, “….I need to make sure my bodyguard and I have good communication. That we’re in sync,” Root attempted to explain.

"I think you’re testing her,” John asserted. He was speaking to Root as the leader of the Security Team. He was looking out for Shaw the way he would any of them. Even Martine.

“Look, John,” Root said, in the tone one uses when they think the person they’re talking to can’t possibly understand the complexity of your answer. “It’s …..complicated. “

“We could do one of those corporate training things you love,” John said as if he had all the time in the world. In the meantime, he watched as Root kept her eyes on the door to the ballroom. “You could fall backwards, and we could see if Shaw catches you.”

“John,” Root said, looking away from his baby blues because she could tell he knew what was going on. “I ….like….Shaw,” she said and then looked at him.

“I know,” John replied because he didn’t mince words.

“So, I’m not sure how …..,” Root said, her voice even lower.

“I know,” John affirmed.

“I’m going …slowly,” Root said, crossing her arms now and holding herself at the elbows.

“Have you …talked to her?” the tall man asked, because he was in the dark when it came to how women did most things.

“No! I would, but Bear doesn’t think she’s ready and I have to agree with him on this,” Root explained. “If I’m off base, it will really annoy her.”

“Yeah, we don’t want that,” John said of the woman who always seemed pissed off to him.

“So, you understand my dilemma?” Root asked, wanting to get back.  
John nodded while he thought this over. As a person who kept others at arm’s length, he empathized with how challenging relationships could be. John also had a code of honor that included never messing in other people’s affairs. Maybe he would tweak

that just this once.

“Look,” he said after what felt like hours to Root, “….maybe you’re using the wrong tactic here.”

“Could we forego the military terms, Commander? I’m a little rusty on my jarhead slang,” Root said, wondering if she wanted to hear his input.

“Shaw’s following what you say, here. That really doesn’t tell you anything other than she’s good at following orders. You want to see what she’d do on her own,” John surmised.

“So…..?” Root prompted him, feeling like they were talking in slow motion.

“So far tonight, you know what Shaw will do when you tell her you don’t want to be with the guy. What will she do if you indicate that you do want to be with him?” John wondered. “Give her the other signal and leave with him.”

Root thought about that and didn’t like it at all. “John, suppose she’s fine with that. Suppose Sameen thinks that’s what I want. No, that’s no good.”

“Then, you’ll know,” John said, satisfied with his plan. The fact that Root wasn’t fine with it had little impact on him.

“That’s the worst idea I have ever heard,” Root said, her voice not as confident as when they first started talking.

“It could backfire,” John admitted.

“Then why would I do it?” Root asked and couldn’t believe she was asking John for his opinion now.

“Because if you tell Shaw how you feel and she doesn’t feel the same way, I’m afraid I’ll have to fire her,” John postulated.

This logic was all too much for Root, but she did wonder if John had a point. Her plan tonight was simply showing her that Sameen would follow her requests. She would never fire Sameen, but what would it be like to be around Shaw all the time if she knew she didn’t have the same feelings.

“Fine!” Root said, annoyed beyond reason. “But if this doesn’t work, John Reese, there will be hell to pay!”

And that was why John never interfered in other people’s business.

* * *

Root stormed back into the ballroom ahead of John. How was it possible that Reese had come up with a better plan that hers? It seemed implausible to the genius. She wished Bear was there to lend an ear. When she returned to the room, Shaw was at the bar with Martine. In an effort to calm the woman down, Shaw suggested a good stiff drink. “I’m on duty!” Martine declared, but Shaw convinced her that the biggest threat to their boss right now was being bored by Harold’s stories of his nature walk vacation.

“Dude never met a five letter syllable he didn’t like,” she said to Martine and made her laugh. Shaw winked at the bartender and shots were lined up. “John’s here, if Root needs anything,” said the convincing temptress. Root walked back in, just as they finished.

“Martine’s gonna need a cab,” said the woman who could drink most men under the table.

“What happened?” Root asked.

“She needed …to….unwind,” Shaw explained, smiling. “Hey, I take full responsibility for what happened before. I asked her to relieve me.”

“Please ……don’t say that,” Root said…and meant it in a very different fashion that what Shaw took it for.

“No, I should have told you she was standing in for me. So, don’t blame her. She’s out to impress…you, John, even Bear, probably,” Shaw said.

“You’re a good colleague,” Root said, because most people would not try to help Martine.

“Yeah, we’re colleagues,” Sameen said, the shots loosening her up. “Like you and me, except you’re the boss, so it’s not really coworkers, it’s more like ….boss and worker,” Shaw laughed and wasn’t sure why that was even funny.

Maybe John was right; maybe Root had to do something different. Something that would tell her one way or the other.

* * *

The women returned to the table as dinner was being served. John watched as Root seemed to be thinking of her next move. Shaw, as usual, was deliriously happy eating the meal. He noticed when the steak was served; Shaw’s was already cut up into bite size pieces. Another example of how Root was taking care of Shaw. What would Root be like, he wondered, if Shaw wasn’t interested?

“Are you okay?” Sameen finally asked when it dawned on her how quiet her boss had been.

“Yes,” Root smiled, but Sameen knew something was different.

“Did John say something to upset you?” Shaw asked, because she seemed quiet since they got back.

“No, he was a big help; surprisingly,” Root said, her throat getting tight.

“Hey, Samantha!” the Master of Ceremonies called out and came over to the table. “Sorry I had to cut our conversation short before. Running the show and all.” The man bent down and kissed her on the cheek and pulled a chair up to join them. “Tim Logan,” he said to everyone else as he introduced himself. Tim then proceeded to take over the conversation, telling everyone what a great job he did. Shaw gave him one look and sized him up – Princeton University graduate who worked at his father’s firm, was filthy rich and did charities like this to assuage his upper class guilt.

“I do charities like this to meet the hot women,” he admitted and Shaw sat corrected. “And I think I’ve just met the hottest.”

Joss Carter kicked John under the table. “Aren’t you going to do something about him?” she asked, because the man was obnoxious.

“I’m off duty,” John said, waiting to see what his boss would do.

Sameen pushed the last two pieces of steak into her mouth, because she knew any minute now, she’d hear the code word, and have to escort this blowhard away. She was actually smiling, thinking of how much she was going to enjoy that.

“I think we arrested this jackass last year for dealing coke,” Lionel whispered in Shaw’s ear. “Father’s high powered attorney got him off.”

“Don’t worry,” Shaw assured him. “Watch this,” she said certain of the outcome.

“Well, I will say, that this room was filled with ….,” Root started to say and Shaw stood up. “A symphony of hard work,” she added and Shaw grabbed the guy’s elbow and tugged.

“Let’s go, Ivy League. Wait, a …what? A…… _symphony_?” Shaw asked, incredulously. “Don’t you mean …the room was filled with … _noise_?” Shaw whispered, still standing.

“Could you get your hand off me?” the uninvited guest demanded, pulling away.

“No,” Root said and her tone was obviously sad. “I meant …symphony.”

Shaw pulled back and looked at her boss, who could not make eye contact. Then, she sat back down and peered past her boss to make sure they were talking about the same man. “A symphony? Really?”

Root’s impulsive action had taken her down a road she wasn’t sure she wanted to be on. But, now that she was here, she wondered if she would go down it alone.

“Yes!” she affirmed and just then, Tim said he was on his way uptown to an after party and asked her to come.

“Oh, God,” Shaw groaned loudly. “I hate those things.”

“It’s okay, Sameen. I got this,” Root said and stood up. She said goodnight to everyone and said she would see them tomorrow. Root took his arm and walked out.

* * *

Shaw sat there, staring, trying to make sense of what just happened.

Joss watched John who was keenly observing Root and Shaw. “Did you have something to do with that?” she asked, unsure even of what ‘ _that_ ’ was. “Cause you look like you had something to do with that.”

John was having second thoughts about his advice. At the time, it sounded very sound to him. Right now, it looked disastrous. Root looked hurt; Shaw looked confused.

“Well, I didn’t see that coming,” Harold said, leaning over to John.

It had to be bad, if even Harold could see it.


	42. Going Bananas

Sameen sat there going over the details of what had just happened in her head. The logical part of her brain explained that her boss had given her two words and so, it made sense that she might use both of them. It just didn’t seem like this was Root’s plan and certainly not with a rich, spoiled, coke-dealing pompous jerk. The more Sameen tried to push it out of her mind, the more her chest got tight. She needed to figure this out and fast.

“Is this guy dangerous?” she asked Lionel who admitted he didn’t think so, but he wasn’t a nice guy. Then she got up and went over to John. “Is that guy your boss’ usual choice of dates?” she asked and John said …well, he said _nothing_ , because he didn’t know if he would spoil the very advice he gave Root in the first place.

“Do what you think is right,” he said and Shaw frowned at him for his cryptic response. “I hope you’re driving,” she said to Joss, thinking John had been drinking.

“I don’t know what you did, but I hope it does not backfire on you, John,” Joss said with a knowing look.

Shaw looked like something on a string as she looked around the room, trying to figure out her next move. Then she saw someone leaving the room that might be able to help.

* * *

Iris Campbell was in the stall in the ladies room when she heard her name being called. “Oh, God, no! Not here,” she whispered when she heard Shaw’s voice.

“Dr. Campbell?” Shaw called out, banging on the doors resulting in women screaming. “Oh, sorry,” she said to one woman who hadn’t secured the door good enough.

“Ms. Shaw?” Iris called out and proceeded to the sink. “How are you?”

“Doc, you have to explain this to me. I mean, less than two weeks ago, I was your normal, average, okay above average, Axis II Personality Disorder, great with a gun, kinda woman,” Shaw listed off her credentials. The weapon phrase caught the attention of a couple of women at the sink and thought maybe she was a cop. “Do you mind?” Shaw asked gruffly and decided this was a conversation that they should have alone. So, she rushed the women out with her good arm waving at them to leave.  
Iris watched as Shaw escorted the unwanted guests and then slammed the bathroom door.

“Ms. Shaw, I think …,” Iris was about to say, but no one cared what she thought yet.

“Now I’m following asinine orders, using code words, dressing to the nines, making friends with obnoxious people, and worst of all – I can’t think straight,” Sameen said, unsure of what to do.

“Well, perhaps you should come in…,” Iris tried to postpone the inevitable.

Shaw grabbed the therapist by her right shoulder. “Doc, I am a marine! We don’t do confusion, or mixed signals. I did tours overseas that would make strong men wet their pants. And now? A few days with this circus and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do!”

“Sameen, what is going on?” Iris said, relinquishing any hope of conducting this session in her office or anywhere that didn’t have toilets.

Just then, a brave patron banged on the door. Intensity erupted in Shaw’s eyes as she turned, opened the door and told the woman she could still shoot with the use of her good arm. She locked the door this time. It was only natural for the petrified woman to assume that some nut was holding Iris hostage in the bathroom.

“Root gave me some code words tonight ...and - don’t, for the love of all things holy, say ‘ _code words_?” Sameen warned her because she knew Iris often repeated what she said.

“Okay….,” Iris said, giving Shaw some latitude here.

“One word for if she wanted to stay with someone; another for if she didn’t want to. All night long, it’s been ‘too much noise in here’, or ‘can’t hear you above the noise’, “ Shaw explained as she walked back and forth. “To be honest, I was beginning to think it was a game for Root. You know, to see if I was on my toes and would hear it ever time she said it.”

“What happened?” Iris asked, leaning up against the sink. She, too, wondered if had been a game.

“The most obnoxious guy in the entire room came over and I was certain he was going to be the next one to get the heave-ho,” Sameen said and then her voice changed. “And instead, she gave me the word that meant she wanted to go with him.”

“Did that confuse you?” Iris asked, trying to understand.

“Doc, I don’t do confused. I do - this is the situation and this is the plan,” Shaw said, still believing the issue was outside of her.

“It would seem you don’t’ ‘do’ a lot of things that you’ve been doing since you’re here,” Iris gently pointed out.

“Right?” Shaw said, thinking Iris agreed that the rest of them needed to get their shit together.

“Sameen, I think you’re …doing….these feelings because they’re actually inside of you,” Iris broke the news as calmly as she could. She wasn’t at all surprised when dark eyes stared hard at her, trying like hell to intimidate her to retract those words.

“You mean…..these people are messing with my head?” Shaw asked, still attempting to put the cause on someone else.

 _Mini therapy sessions in a bathroom were never easy,_ Iris thought. “Sameen, what I’m suggesting is that you have genuine ….feelings…..for Ms. Groves,” Iris pointed out and pushed against the sink hard, waiting for the explosion.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” asked the confused military minded woman.

“It means ….that you are feeling concerned for Ms. Groves as her …friend,” Iris chose carefully. “Your actions maybe that of her bodyguard, Sameen, but your feelings, I think, are more.”

Shaw understood what the doctor was saying, even if she didn’t like it. She grew up caring for people; she got the idea of having feelings for them. She had just decided not to do that after her father died, and she was good at it. Nowadays, Sameen was cause and effect. If you could figure out what was causing something, you could rid yourself of it and be done.

“I’ve always …always …been able to shut them down,” Shaw confessed and took that as a sign of failure.  
Iris couldn’t believe that Shaw could have a breakthrough …..after three sessions….and in a bathroom. “Yes, I know,” she said empathically.

“So what do I do?” asked the woman who was used to devising brilliant plans that worked.

The answer was a bit more complicated than Sameen appreciated and Iris really wanted the answer to come from Shaw. “What do you want to do?” she asked.

Shaw stammered and walked back and forth, figuring that out. She didn’t understand Root’s actions, and that tightness she was experiencing told her she was worried. “I’m concerned about her. This guy gave off a really bad vibe, Doc. I have to check up to make sure she’s okay.”

The fact that Sameen was working through a solution was a wonderful sign to Iris. Now that Shaw knew what she felt, and what she wanted to do, they could talk about the possible ways she could do that. Iris was thinking that Shaw could call or text Root and ask if she were okay. This would be a great opportunity for her to express her feelings of concern for her friend.

Nowhere in the list of possible options did Iris think – duct tape.

Sameen was going on her gut feeling; something she did whenever she sensed danger. “Thanks, Doc,” Shaw said and unlocked the bathroom door.

* * *

“There!” the woman called out when she saw Sameen emerge alone.

“Halt!” the guy said and was about to grab Shaw when he suddenly fell to the floor. Sameen looked over to see Martine, standing over the man she had stopped. “You okay?” she asked Sameen.

“Yeah, thanks,” Shaw said and hurried back into the ballroom.

* * *

She found Fusco in the crowd as people were leaving. “I missed dessert?” she asked, convinced that this is what happened to people when they paid attention to feelings.

“You were gone so long, we thought you left,” Fusco explained.

“Do you have duct tape?” she asked and he answered he had some in his car.

John seemed to be walking right behind them and Joss couldn’t wait to find out why. The four of them met up at Fusco’s car.

“Rip me off some strips,” Shaw demanded and Fusco started to do it.

“What do you need …?” Lionel was asking when Shaw pulled her arm out of the sling, pulled the bandage off, and applied the tape to her injury. Lionel watched in horror as Shaw slowly moved her arm around, the tape giving her the mobility she needed.

“Are you sure you were a doctor?” John asked when he saw what was happening.

“Sameen, are you sure you’re okay to do that?” Joss asked, worried that the woman was going to inflict further injury on herself.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Shaw said. She turned and found a young guy staggering over to his car. She grabbed him with her good arm by the lapel.

“Hey!” he protested. “I’m a cop!”

“Yeah, good for you. Where’s the after party?” she asked because he looked like he was the type going to one.

“Well, there are a few. Which one do you want to go to, hot stuff?” he asked, thinking Shaw was looking for a ride.

“Tim Logan. Where is he?” Sameen asked, still not letting go of the man’s jacket.

“Oh, you’re one of _those_ girls,” he said, smiling and looking Sameen up and down ….and up and down.

She wrapped her good hand around the jacket and pulled him in. “You’re about thirty seconds away from passing out.”

“I’m not passing out!” he said.

“You will when I put my knee…,” Shaw explained.

“Okay, okay,” the man finally agreed. “Tim has a penthouse on 57th. That’s where the party is.”

Shaw had her info and released him. “What does that mean – one of _those_ girls?” she asked.

“Tim likes them crazy. The crazier the better for him,” the guy said, trying to get the wrinkles out of his tux lapel.

“I did not just see an officer get assaulted,” Joss said, turning her back so she would not witness the incident.

“Shaw assaults everybody. You’ll get used to it,” Lionel explained.

“Are you going with her?” Joss asked John. She could tell by the way he looked at her that he wasn’t planning on it. “Because my intuition tells me you had something to do with this.”

John grimaced a little while he thought about what Joss said. “I may have…,” John said slowly, not appreciating his date’s keen sense of perception. “….already done enough.”

“John! I don’t know what kind of advice you gave either of them, but something tells me your boss took it to heart. Am I right?” Joss whispered to him.

John knew how to settle this. “Shaw, do you want help?” he called out.

“Why, is Detective Carter looking for an excuse to end your date?” Sameen shot back.

“See?” John said. “She doesn’t want any help.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Lionel assured his friends, but Joss wasn’t so sure about that.

“That’s going to be a little difficult, Fusco. She just took your car,” Joss announced.

* * *

Shaw drove up to the apartment building, gave the doorman a big wink and announced she was there for Tim’s party. She couldn’t help but notice how he was staring at her gray taped shoulder. “Clashes, I know,” she smiled when she stepped into the elevator and pressed “Penthouse.”

Shaw’s timing was impeccable.

Upstairs, Tim had just found Root in a bedroom where she went to escape the crowd and he was making his move. It wasn’t that Root couldn’t handle herself, it’s just she was terribly preoccupied at what a big mistake she had made. John was right – the change of tactic worked. She just didn’t care for the results.

“Why don’t you get out of that dress and into something more comfortable? Like my bed,” Tim was suggesting.

When Root recommended he leave, before someone got hurt, he reached out and slapped her across the face.

That was going to be the last thing Tim did with that arm.


	43. Making Mincemeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news: Toria_is_alright posed a great question - "What would Shaw do if it had been a woman who went after Root"? Krys wondered that, too. So, I tried to incorporate that scenario.  
> And maybesomedayroot put it this way - "I would have banged their heads together by now."  
> The less than good news: It delayed the inevitable.  
> So, I owe you!  
> Thanks for all your comments and suggestions. I do appreciate them all.

There was little Root couldn’t handle, given that she was very adept at self-defense and had nerves of steel. The slap took her by surprise, and she put her hand on the sting. “That was a mistake,” Root warned him.

* * *

Shaw walked right into the party infested apartment and looked around. The closer she closed in on Root, the tenser she was feeling.

“Well, well, well,” a thirty something man said, smiling as Shaw entered. “Who are you?’”

“Ordinarily, I’d be the girl kicking your sorry ass, but I’m in a rush,” Shaw smiled. “I’m looking for my friend, Root.”

The man shook his head.

“Samantha Groves,” Shaw clarified, rolling her eyes. Everyone knew who she was.

“In there, but I don’t know if you should go in,” he cautioned Sameen, which of course, he shouldn’t have.

“Let me get back to you when I need your opinion, hot shot,” Shaw said, walking down the long hallway.

* * *

“I thought you came in here for fun,” Tim said, convinced the only reason Root was there was because he was the catch of the century.

“I came in here to be alone. Did you notice I didn’t leave any breadcrumbs so you could follow me?” Root said, sorting out her feelings. She reached out and grabbed the hand that struck her and twisted it so hard and fast, even she heard the bone snap in it.

“Ooooowwww,” he screamed and pulled his hand back to cradle it.

“Now, Tim, I have a lot on my mind,” Root said, even though he was bent over and moaning. “The girl I am crazy about doesn’t know it, and I am afraid of scaring her if I tell her. So, yeah, a lot on my mind.”

“You are crazy! Do you know that?” he yelled, which made it easy for Shaw to hear which room he was in.

“Timmy, don’t ever put you hand on a woman again. Now, I’m going to leave and if you come near me, I’ll be forced to break several bones in your body,” Root assured him.

“You and what army?” he yelled, thinking he could still do something with his good hand.

“Hello, Root,” Shaw said, standing in the doorway, looking sexy as hell.

“SAMEEN!” Root shouted, and her entire face lit up. “You found me!”

Shaw assessed what had happened before she arrived. The jerk cradling his hand meant he tried something and Root took care of him. Then she noticed the red mark on Root’s face. She was at her side in an instant. “Did …he do that?” she asked, her hand reaching up to touch Root’s jaw so she could see it. The sting disappeared immediately.

“That crazy bitch broke my hand,” Tim wailed.

“That’s my girl,” Shaw said to Root and sent her heart fluttering.

Root noticed the gray tape on Sameen’s arm. “Sweetie, why did you take your sling off and duct tape your arm?”

Shaw smiled and fixed her eyes on Tim. “So I could help you,” she explained and walked over to him.

“What the hell are you doing to do?” he asked, wishing he could get out of the room.

“Well, it’s _not_ like I’m going to spill your glass of champagne off the nightstand, stomp on your foot, throw an elbow to your chin, and punch you in that sorry ass face of yours,” Shaw said smoothly, her eyes wild as she described just what she was about to do.

Root clasped her hands and practically squealed. “Watch your shoulder, Sameen,” she called out as Shaw executed her threat.

When Shaw was done, Root asked: “Are you okay?” as she took Sameen’s arms in her hands to see.

“Let’s get out of here,” Shaw said and took Root by the hand.

Root looked down at her hand to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“Oh, wait,” Shaw said, turning around and dragging Root with her to the nightstand as Tim lay on the floor moaning in pain. “I forgot step one,” she remembered, spilling the flute glass of the bubbly substance down on Tim.

* * *

“I knew you would come,” Root said, her face flushed from the excitement of seeing Shaw.

“Yeah,” Sameen said, because she was a woman of few words.

As they walked past one of the other bedrooms, Shaw stopped to look in. Dozens of people were snorting white lines. “I think Fusco might want to call one of his buddies,” she said, snapping a picture and sending it to him.

Shaw was feeling good – she helped her friend, and was assisting the NYPD all in one fell swoop. She checked in on that tight feeling in her chest and it was gone.

Then Root felt compelled to share something. “I need to apologize, Sameen,” Root said.

“Could you possibly tell me this later,” Shaw suggested, but Root pulled her to stop.

“No,” she insisted and Shaw rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Can’t two girls have a chat?”

“Root, I’m actually feeling a lot better right now and I’m afraid whatever it is you have to say……,” Sameen was trying to explain, but there was not stopping Root once she started.

“Well,” Root started, casting her eyes up to the ceiling while she collected her thoughts.

“Root! Skip the verbal foreplay and get to the point! The NYPD is going to be swarming this place any minute,” Shaw pointed out. One thing that absolutely irritated Sameen was that nothing she said or did ever made Root speed things up. The woman didn’t know how to give the short version of anything.

“I did this …on purpose. The whole thing. The words, the leaving with Tim.”

“I knew it!” Shaw said, clapping her hands. “It was a test, right?” Shaw declared.

“Sort of,” Root said, looking bashfully guilty.

“To see how fast I would react? And if I could find you when you left? That was so confusing, Root. That sleaze ball was the tip off, though. I never for a minute believed he was your type,” Shaw explained. And for a moment, Sameen thought she had it all figured out. She couldn’t wait to tell Iris that she was wrong; she was the same person she always was, and it was Root causing all the confusion.

“No, Sameen,” Root said and once again, baffling the woman.

“Why is it your life’s mission to confuse the hell out of me?” Shaw barked.

“I just think it’s important that we have an open communication,” Root said and quickly added, “And trust.”

“You know you’re the same woman who tazed, drugged and zip tied me, right?” Shaw pointed out. “But if it will get us to the elevator, then sure, okay.”

“I really wish we could get past that,” Root said sincerely.

“Okay, Root, whatever,” Shaw said and this was where Root felt the boundary and feared going over it.

Maybe they had done enough for one night, Root thought, as they kept walking. “What are you smiling at?” Root asked as they continued.

“That shrink was trying to tell me that my feelings were….,” and Shaw was going to say – getting in the way – when a very tall, blonde model type rounded the corner into the hallway and saw Root. The very inebriated woman – whose level of affection rose with each drink she had – reach out and grabbed Root.

“You’re not going, Samantha, are you?” she whined in such an exaggerated manner, Shaw gawked at her.

“Yes, Paulina, I am going. And you should, too. Rumor has it the NYPD is going to visit here shortly,” Root said to her socialite friend. She was one of the few people Root could stand at social gatherings.

“Oh, but you mustn’t. I will miss you,” the close to six feet tall woman said and leaned in and kissed Root on the lips – hard.

Root was more annoyed than surprised as the European woman had tried to do this before. Root was about to lecture the model on how they talked about this and how sorry she was, but she didn’t have those feeling for Paulina.  
She would have said all of that, but suddenly Paulina was pinned against the wall.

“Don’t you _ever_ come near her again,” all one hundred and fifteen pounds of Shaw growled. Root looked at the tall woman, who had just been brought down to size – figuratively and literally. Shaw stepped back and let the woman slide down the wall; a little uncertain of what just happened.

Something made her snap.

“Let’s go,” she demanded and grabbed Root’s hand. Root followed, a huge smile on her face, and waved back at her friend, who still didn’t know what hit her.

Shaw felt calm one minute; furious the next. How did that slip between her fingers so quickly?

* * *

Root could see that something was going on for Shaw as she paced back and forth in front of the elevator. Something had just taken over Shaw and she didn’t like that she couldn’t figure it out. What was making her do that? She was still deep in thought when the elevator came and they got in.

As if poking a bear with a stick, Root innocently asked Shaw if she was okay.

“What?” she asked, as if she just realized Root was still there. “That was…. I thought …..she was a thousand feet tall and drunk,” Shaw said, as she scrambled to compartmentalize everything.

Root wanted nothing more than for that reality to strip just a piece of Shaw’s armor back. But Shaw was in fight mode. Root’s hope went from ecstatic to punctured in minutes, and was beginning to think that whatever she was wishing for wasn’t going to happen.

When they got downstairs, Shaw whistled for cab just as the Vice Squad was descending on the building. “Aren’t you coming?” Root asked when Shaw closed the cab door.

“I …have to return Fusco’s car,” Shaw said, her throat closing at the poor excuse.

“Okay,” Root said in the saddest, most defeated tone Shaw had ever heard her use.

* * *

Sameen watched as Root’s head dropped in the back seat as the cab drove away. “DAMMIT TO HELL, ROOT!” she shouted and slammed her fist on a car that set the alarm off. “That woman is driving me crazy. No! I’m not going to let her do this. I just need to ……,” Shaw bellowed, looking around. She made her way to Fusco’s car and called him on his cell.

“You can leave it on 34th and Second,” he instructed her in a nervous tone.

“You want me to leave your car….. on the street?” Shaw yelled, thinking the entire world had gone insane.

“Yeah, leave the key ….I’ll get it,” Lionel said haltingly.

Shaw agreed, but didn’t mean it. She was now going to find him and see what the hell was up. It didn’t take long for her to locate the man, sitting in the window of the diner. “He’d suck at undercover,” Shaw mused and then saw who he was sitting with.

The other woman who annoyed the hell out of Shaw.

“Oh, God, no,” Iris Campbell said for the second time that night as Sameen entered the diner and sat down next to Fusco in the booth, facing the therapist.

“You are the worst therapist in the entire universe,” Shaw said and tossed Fusco the keys, pulling his plate over in front of her. “No offense,” she added because, in spite of everything, she was starting to like Iris.

That probably wouldn’t work in Iris’ favor.

“None taken, Sameen, but…,” Iris attempted to say because she had a rule about therapist-client boundaries.

“Please,” Fusco begged. “Let …her get it out, or ….”

“I thought we agreed that all of this … _stuff_ …..that I’m feeling is because everyone else …..,” Shaw said, making a circling motion to include present company, “….is messing with me.”

Iris watched as Fusco passed Shaw the ketchup to put on the hamburger he had ordered, but hadn’t yet touched. “I went there …. Like you said,” Shaw said, giving Iris some credit. “And it was good. Root, you know, can handle herself, so I just finished him off.” She took another bite of Fusco’s food.

“Sameen, when you say you finished him off,” Iris prompted and her eyes got wide. Fusco thought he should intervene.

“Shaw, you didn’t actually …..what did you do?” he asked.

“I cleaned up on aisle five,” she said, which was code for she beat the hell out of someone.

“We need to talk about how you….,” Iris was trying to suggest because she had heard Shaw issue threats, but it sounded like she was carrying them out now.

“Is there a point to your uninvited visit?” Fusco whispered to Shaw to get her to focus.

“I was fine. I went there and the tension was gone, just like we talked about,” Shaw said because that’s how she remembered the bathroom talk. “And then…..then….,” she started and realized she’d have to say women kissed Root and she lost it. “Something happened and it set me …all…off again.”

Shaw closed her eyes, and pursed her lips because she knew exactly what Iris was going to ask.

But it wasn’t Iris who spoke.

“Look Shaw, if your buddy was here, I’d bang your two heads together, but since she’s not, I’m gonna give it you straight. You’re acting crazier than Cocoa Puffs and I really think if you could just admit what you’re feeling, you’d do us all a favor,” Fusco said plainly, but did pull himself back into the corner of the seat.

Shaw stopped mid-bite and turned to him. Then she looked at Iris, whose expression seemed to confirm what Fusco was saying. This was the longest Fusco had ever been able to talk to Shaw without her hitting him or her walking away. He was on a roll.

“You’re busy matching everyone up, Shaw, and you can’t even see what’s going on in front of you. I think you got a crush..,” he said and Sameen threw the food down.

“What I think Lionel is trying to say – in a less than helpful way –“ Iris intervened.

“No, I get it!” Shaw said, fired up and aggravated. “Fine, think what you all want.”

She got up from the table and looked back at the couple. “Not cool!” she issued her mantra when something annoyed her that she couldn’t quite verbalize. “Not cool - at all.”

Shaw walked outside, even after Iris called after her. She was going to prove them wrong. She hailed a cab and gave him the address to Root’s apartment. The closer she got, the angrier she got.  She knew two things; this was all Root’s fault and she had to quit.

Shaw had a snowball's chance in hell of getting her way on either of those things.


	44. Melts in One's Mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie - it was done so well in canon, that one struggles to make it come close in writing.

It amazed Sameen how so many people couldn’t see the real problem here. She knew whose fault it was, and now she was on her way there to end it. The shortest distance between Sameen and her problems …was Root.

* * *

That cab ride home was one of the longest for Root. Her heart ached to think she screwed things up with Shaw.

"Don’t give me that look,” Root instructed Bear, who by now had heard the whole story. “I thought John had a good idea.” Bear just whined. “I know that now, Mr. Hindsight. I made a mess,” she admitted. Bear whimpered his concern. “I don’t know where she is. I can’t go out after her; that would make her nuts. I think it’s time I trust Sameen to do what is best for her,” Root said with conviction and the dog actually lay down and moaned. “I’m not giving up on her, Bear,” Root said, but even she could hear the wavering in her voice.

* * *

Sameen had her plan all figured out by the time she got on the elevator at Root’s apartment. “I’ll just go up there and tell her to stop it,” she reasoned. “And if she refuses, I’ll make her.” There. Settled.

* * *

 While Sameen was feeling more and more confident, Root was becoming unhinged the more her canine confidante challenged her. She was already feeling foolish enough for following John’s advice, but now she was feeling scared that she was losing Shaw.  
Shaw paced the elevator rehearsing what she would say. Root was just about to dissolve into tears, when the doorman announced the visitor.

“She’s here!” Root said to her four legged companion. “I can’t screw this up, Bear! Tell me what to do!” she demanded, wiping the tears that had escaped.

* * *

The two women were like locomotives traveling in opposite directions, coming down the same track at one another, ready to meet head on. Shaw in her fiery mode; Root in her taking control mode. Given the velocity at which each woman was traveling, they were going to crash right into one another.

“ _Use your words_ ,” Shaw reminded herself when the elevator arrived at the Penthouse level.

“ _Don’t talk so much,_ ” Root repeated the advice she swore Bear gave her.

And then the door opened into Root’s apartment.

As soon as Sameen saw Root, her heart pounded and the tightness surged in her chest. Just seeing that angelic face did that to her.

When Root laid eyes on Shaw, her heart filled with a joy she had never known. It was so hard for her to think when she was looking at those eyes, that mouth, that voluptuous body.

Shaw stood there, aware that her lips were not giving the speech she planned as her brain scurried to find it. “It’s here somewhere!” she thought she heard her brain yell.

Root was afraid what Shaw was going to say. Quitting would be top of the list and she couldn’t let that happen. “Stop her from talking,” Root’s brain instructed.

Shaw couldn’t remember what she was supposed to start with; so she said the first thing that came into her mind. “You owe me dessert.”

“I do?” Root responded. She was so happy to hear that it wasn’t the anticipated threat to leave, that she stared at Sameen and walked towards her. “Do something,” Bear warned from afar in his growl. Root’s eyes exploded in a seductive smile as she said - “Then let me get you some.”

The closer Root got, the harder it was for Shaw to think of her next line. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. It was as if both women tossed their carefully planned moves and forged ahead blindly.

The sight of Shaw’s arm caught Root’s attention and she couldn’t help but wonder – “Is your arm okay, Sweetie?”

“Shut up!” Shaw demanded, because she was afraid Root’s talking would stop this.

Root grabbed the sides of Sameen’s head with her hands. Shaw’s reflexes should have been able to deflect them because she was so much faster, but her hands went to Root’s head instead.

Shaw’s mind was going offline, but her body was trying to figure out how to fight off the very thing it was craving. She came here to make Root stop, after all. Sameen’s dark eyes smoldered with the expression of – “Fine! You want this?” as if she were finally giving Root what she had longed for.

But not the way Root wanted.

When your head is fighting the very thing your body desires, you tend to act – wild – and that’s what Sameen did, when she turned Root fast and pushed her up against the wall.

Root let out an excited yelp and thought; ‘ _I am so glad you like this_!’

Sameen was a contradiction of pushing Root back and then pulling her in. Root readily accepted the impending kiss, but Shaw pulled back just the slightest and opened her mouth, teasing and controlling.

It was like a ballet …on steroids.

Sameen was making this into a game even if she didn’t realize it, and that, in and of itself, was exciting for Root. Root loved games. She stood up and walked Sameen backwards until they reached the end of the couch. She actually gave Sameen the gentlest of shoves down, and leaned over her in what Sameen’s brain informed her was the dominant position.

“Hell, no!” Sameen’s entire being yelled and got up by grabbing onto the taller woman. Sameen was skipping seduction and going straight for wicked seizing.

Root would have been happy to relinquish and surrender, but she knew that’s not what Shaw wanted, just yet. And Root was one hundred percent on board for giving the Persian what she wanted.

And needed – by slowly stoking her passion until it spilled over.

Sameen regained her footing, stood up and grabbed Root’s blouse. She knew if she got the clothing down around Root’s arms, she couldn’t move as fast. Shaw’s military brain was still firing on one cylinder. The sound of buttons flying escalated Root’s euphoria, and she fell backwards from Shaw’s – not so gentle push back onto the dining room table. She lunged upward, catching Shaw with her leg and pulled her in. In a move that would make vampires jealous, Root grabbed Shaw’s neck with her mouth and sucked as hard as she could on her flesh. After all the time she waited, Root was marking Shaw as hers.

Shaw’s exhilaration expressed itself in guttural moans as she threw her head back to give Root access to her neck…..and all the time ……she needed. The moaning escalated and dishes went flying off the table, crashing onto the tiled floor as hands clawed at each other.

Bear hid behind the couch.

Then, Shaw took control and pushed Root back down on the table – hard. Root’s moans were a mixture of excitement and having the wind knocked out of her. Shaw looked down at Root, and there was no mistaking who was directing things now. Root was too far gone and her entire body raised the white flag as Sameen ran her hands slowly over her breasts, stopping to release and expose them.

Root tossed her head from side to side, as Shaw continued to remove her captive’s clothes and then her own. The touch of Sameen’s bare skin on her made Root's heart palpitate and her head swirl. Shaw was touching her everywhere.

“Oh, God, yes, Sameeeeeeen!” Root shouted when Shaw expertly pushed her to a height of ecstasy she had never known in her life. She screamed with wild abandon when Shaw brought her the release her body had been building up for almost two weeks. She collapsed under the exhaustion, but knew she couldn’t rest. The convulsions had hardly subsided when Root willed herself to sit back up, pulled her blouse back on, grabbed Sameen’s hand, and pulled her into the bedroom.

She was afraid the window of opportunity for her to take control and stop Shaw from thinking was closing.

She pushed Sameen down hard onto the bed; the woman finally realizing just how strong Root was. Sameen tried to get up, but Root was straddling her, holding her legs in place with her own, and holding Shaw’s arms across her chest. She experienced the slightest thrill as Shaw pushed up and couldn’t move her.

“You might dead lift a hundred and forty five pounds, sweetie,” Root said in Shaw’s ear in a sweet voice, “But I’m about to throw your entire body clear over the edge.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Shaw started to say, but Root devoured her mouth, preventing her from talking.

By the time Root had savored every bit of Shaw’s flesh, there was no more fighting back. For the first time in her life, Sameen surrendered. And she couldn’t have been happier.

The couple collapsed in the bed together; Root gently running her hand over Sameen’s bare back. As many times as Sameen had made love, there was never any cuddling afterwards. By the time it was over, she had her clothes back on and was out the door.

This time... it was different.

This time… she was staying for breakfast.


	45. Fly in Her Soup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would seem I have a Shaw-like appetite for your comments and thoughts. Thank you for them all.

Sameen couldn’t remember the last time she slept so well. Root couldn’t remember the last time she got so little sleep. She forced herself to stay awake, just so she could watch Sameen sleeping. She couldn’t get over that she was there, in her bed, and seemed so happy. She deduced that from the smile on Shaw’s face, even while she slept.

Sameen’s eyes fluttered open. She wasn’t at all surprised Root’s soft, light brown eyes were smiling back at her. “Good morning,” she said and closed her eyes again, wanting to savor the restful feeling.

“Good morning,” Root said tenderly back. She let her fingers graze Shaw’s skin; the simple touch renewing the urge they both felt the night before. “I owe you dessert,” she reminded Sameen. Shaw turned quickly and was pulling Root onto of her to kiss her.

“I think we settled that score nicely, don’t you think?” Shaw pointed out, affectionately. Shaw’s hands trailed the length of Root’s back and beyond, sending shivers throughout her body. She let out a squeal when Shaw flipped her over, and was now lying atop her, closing in to quench the yearning her body woke up with.

Root dissolved into a puddle of sheer ecstasy as Shaw’s lovemaking was sweet and tender. Shaw didn’t seem the need for struggle as Root tenderly explored her sleepy body.

An hour later, the women arose to shower and get ready for work.

* * *

Root was ready to sing from the rooftops that something in her life worked out exactly as it was supposed to. She knew, however, there would be no singing with Shaw. When Sameen went into the shower, Root quietly texted Jill and asked her to have some items sent up. Then, Root let Isabelle in and asked her to cook several things for breakfast. The woman was surprised since Root usually had a very light breakfast. “I have a guest,” she whispered.

Soon, Daan came in with Bear from his long walk. “Well, you’re looking particularly happy this morning,” the young man noted.

“Am I?” Root said coyly and Bear raised an eyebrow at her. “Hush, you.” Then she rushed the dog walker to leave and went back to thinking of what she should do next.

* * *

Shaw was inside shaking her head every time she thought about what she had intended to accomplish last night, and what actually happened. She was pretty amazed at how well it had all turned out. To think how annoying she first found Root, and then realize that the same woman managed to reduce her to feeling like a hormone induced teenager.

Then, Shaw stopped what she was doing and thought about how little experience she had in this part – the morning after. She was typically long gone before the sun was up, because staying for breakfast often gave the other person the idea of commitment – at least for as second date.

Or worse; it gave them hope.

Sameen wondered what the aftermath for Root would be like? “UGH!” Shaw let out. This was the part she hated the most. This is exactly why she often snuck off in the middle of the night. Especially, when the tryst was with her boss. She knew it meant she’d have to quit. There was no way she could work with Root now, especially if Root was going to be making a big deal out of this. “Just tell her,” she mouthed to herself as she fixed her hair after her shower. “Oh God,” she whined. “And I’ll have to say sorry to Reese before I leave!”

Breaking someone’s heart AND apologizing before eating was nothing short of torture for Shaw.

* * *

Sameen may have overlooked a certain detail about Root being a genius. The woman was already one step ahead. She knew Shaw was the type to measure her relationships in minutes and hours, so she was prepared.

She also knew the way to Shaw’s heart.

The smell of sausage, bacon, and coffee was the second most exciting thing Shaw experienced that morning. Bear greeted her warmly when she emerged in a white bathrobe. There, in the living room, were clothes laid out on the couch for her to choose from. “Okay, maybe I’ll get dressed first and then quit,” she told Bear who immediately voiced his concern. “Where is she?” she asked the dog and never once thought it was odd. “She’s not picking out china patterns, is she?” Sameen worried out loud. Bear ran off to the kitchen.

“Okay, maybe I’ll dress, eat and then tell her,” Shaw decided as she grabbed dark pants and soft cotton black top. At the bottom of the pile of clothes that Sameen chose, was a new roll of duct tape and a note: “I wish you’d use sterilized gauze pads, but in case you insist…...” She picked up the other individual piles of clothes that she could have chosen from, but there was no tape. Just under the one pile that she picked.

“Alright, that was very clever,” Sameen said, getting dressed and then walking into the kitchen.

“Oh, good morning, Ms. Shaw,” Isabelle, the chef, greeted Sameen cheerily.

She indicated for Sameen to sit at the counter, where a plate was set with all the delicious things the woman had prepared. The wonderful cook had Sameen at coffee, but she stayed for the pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon and dry toast because she didn’t want to overdo it. “Gawd, she takes a long time to get dressed,” Sameen commented as she savored the last taste of sausage.

Bear let out a long whine and Shaw swore he gave her a look.

“Oh, Ms. Groves is long gone,” Isabelle said, amazed that a small woman could eat more than her husband.

“Gone? What do you mean – _gone_?” Shaw heard herself say in a surprised voice.

“She left for work before you were out of the shower,” Isabelle explained and Bear groaned that Sameen hadn’t thought of that.

“You’re _very_ critical, you know that?” she said directly to the dog, and then smiled uncomfortably back at the chef before walking out.

“She did ask if you could bring Bear to work with you?” Isabelle added and Shaw had to come back into the room and get him.

If Sameen thought she didn’t know how to manage the niceties of the morning after, she was sure as hell she didn’t know how to do - being the one left. “I do the leaving!” she muttered to the dog who turned his head to look around to prove that wasn’t the case today.

* * *

The doorman, who watched Sameen walk around the elevator talking to herself, wasn’t sure what to expect when she emerged. “Good morning, Ms. Shaw,” he said, as if he saw her every morning.

“How ….?” She asked and he was quick to explain that Ms. Groves told him to have a car waiting for her guest when she came down.

“Her….. _guest_?” Shaw said, insulted. “Did she say if she wants me to get the paper and coffee, too? Maybe I could stop at Zaro’s and get her a bagel or something.” Shaw was close to yelling now, because her speech about quitting was being interrupted by the woman giving her jobs to do.

* * *

As much as if bothered her to leave that morning, Root thought it might be the better thing to do. She was afraid Sameen would wake up and say it was nice, but it was a one night thing and over. Root was putting distance between that news and herself. She was a big girl, and could take it if that’s what happened, but not just yet. She didn’t want the memory of what being with Sameen meant to her – ruined.

Samantha never ran from a challenge – unless it was about to shatter her heart.

* * *

Shaw decided to walk Bear the few blocks to the office. This would give her a chance to sort things out. Everything was reversed and she didn’t even see it coming. “I swear, if you give me that look one more time,” Shaw barked at the dog. She had to get it together before entering the building, she thought. Shaw had never had to summon up her suave before; it just always came naturally. Now, she found herself in unchartered waters and suddenly forgot how to sail. She passed a newsstand and saw the local paper headline: “ _NYPD BUSTS COKE PARTY_ ” – in which her part was whittled down to ‘ _an anonymous tip_ ”. “You see this?” she said, shoving the paper in front of Bear’s face.

“We are not a library. You have to buy it before you let him read it,” the man behind the counter asked, because he had seen a lot stranger. Shaw threw the money down and took the paper, as she and Bear continued their walk to work.

When they entered the building, Shaw released Bear from his leash so he could get to whatever appointments he might have. Then she proceeded to go upstairs, but was stopped at the security desk because, of course she had no company ID. “You know me,” she complained to the young woman behind the desk. “I was in that stupid meeting with you!”

“Sorry, I’ll have to call HR to get a temporary ID badge issued,” the woman said, following protocol.

Shaw huffed and puffed, waiting for Janine to come down. The woman snapped to attention when she heard her favorite employee in the entire world was in need. She pushed people out of her way to get to the elevator. “SHE NEEDS MY HELP!” she yelled, as if that explained it all.

“MS. SHAW!” Janine squealed upon seeing the angry damsel in distress. The security guard, who was only doing her job, received an unnecessary lecture in how she was never to hold Ms. Shaw up again. The woman then handed Sameen her temporary ID card and went into the elevator with her.

“Wow, last night must have really sucked!” Janine said and startled Sameen out of her deep thought.

“Yeah, there was plenty of ……wait!  What do you mean? What do you have, like a company newsletter that she puts things in?” Sameen yelled. “Shaw loses composure….,” Sameen said, waving her hands across the air as if it were the headline.  
Janine watched as the usually calm woman erupted into total animation.

“I meant the Police Foundation Gala?” Janine clarified slowly. “Ms. Groves said those things are usually boring.”

Dead silence filled the elevator as Shaw realized her mistake. “Oh,” she replied. “Yeah.”

“Your shoulder …..looks……nice,” Janine said, haltingly.

“Thanks,” Shaw said, wondering how slow one elevator could go at this hour of the morning. It seemed to stop at every floor. “Come on, come on,” Shaw wailed impatiently, as people tried to get on.

Janine made sure no one got between her and her admired coworker, which is why she was practically on top of Shaw when the elevator filled.

“Oh my, God!” Janine said, pulling Shaw’s untied hair back across her shoulder. “How did you get that bruise on your neck!”

The entire elevator turned to look at the company celebrity as she stood there, her love bite exposed for all to see.

“Just kill me now,” she whispered to the gods above, who were going to ignore her plea.


	46. Crazy Sauce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure silliness

Sameen felt the weight of a dozen eyes as they stared at what Janine had just discovered. “I got this ….,” Shaw explained as she pulled her hair down to cover it, “….saving the world last night.”

“Oh my God!” her ardent admirer cried out, pulling the hair back again. “You poor thing! First your shoulder, then your neck! My boyfriend gave me a hickey like that once, not as big, but it was so hard to cover….”

“GOT IT!” Shaw shouted and now people stared again.

“I’ll get you ice,” Janine whispered and Shaw just closed her eyes, hoping everyone would disappear. In fact, they did. She shut them so long that everyone got off the elevator, including her trusty side-kick. The doors were closing when Shaw realized that was her floor.

She walked to the Security area and sat down at what was her appointed cubicle. She opened her computer, entered the username and password she had been given, and looked at Root’s schedule for the day. The question Sameen was trying to answer was -

Did Root leave for an early meeting, or was she just trying to be the first to leave? Sameen carefully scanned Root’s daily schedule and found there was nothing at all that morning. She slammed the laptop shut when her worst fear was confirmed.

Root had left first!

As far as Shaw was concerned, she had been one upped by the genius CEO. Maybe she wouldn’t get the chance to quit! Maybe Root was going to fire her.

“Well, we’ll just see about that!” Shaw yelled out as she stood up.

“You okay there, Shaw?” Martine asked, from the cubicle next to hers.

“I will be!” Sameen answered and headed upstairs.

* * *

The reason Root’s schedule was clear was because the meeting she was in was an impromptu gathering based on two things; Shaw’s medical care and Shaw’s temper. For both those reasons, the only other BEAR personnel in attendance was John.  
“ _You owe me_ ,” Root told him without explaining why. He figured it had to do with the advice he had given her. She didn’t share how well it turned out in the end, of course.

“So let me make sure I understand you completely, Ms. Groves,” the Senior Administrator of the hospital stated. “You are willing to give us a state of the art security system for hospital records, at the cost of one dollar; IF - the surgeon who performed the operation on your bodyguard, examines it today, here?”

“Yes,” Root said, hands folded and smiling at the head of the table.

“You can understand how we find this incredulous,” the woman stated.

“Yes,” Root affirmed.

“A system like that costs ….,” the woman began, but was cut off.

“Hundreds of thousands of dollars to purchase, and that is if you qualify. BEAR does not give its systems to just anyone,” Root stated truthfully. “I’m aware of the cost we will incur.”

“You have all the legal documentation?” the woman asked, moving forward slowly.

“You have Doctor Reynolds?” Root asked back and held onto the paperwork until she said he was waiting outside.

The surgeon had been summoned by the hospital administrator for this emergency meeting. Surgeons are rarely involved in the hospital’s daily nitty gritty, but his presence was the one stipulation for the meeting to occur in the first place. After the Senior

Administrator gave her okay, he was asked to join them.

“So, you want me to do a follow-up visit….on a patient…..here …in her office?” the surgeon laughed at how ridiculous that was. “That’s a pretty expensive house call, which, by the way, I don’t do!”

“Actually, William, you will,” his superior said plainly. “We’re signing papers that agree to you doing this.”

The surgeon couldn’t believe his boss was going along with this, but he resigned himself to the conditions. “Fine! Do I have to find her or will you have the decency to bring her to me?” he asked.

“She’ll be here any minute,” Root assured him. “Now, Dr. Reynolds, I don’t want you to be startled by the condition of Ms. Shaw’s wound.”

“What does that mean?” the physician asked - startled.

John finally had something to say. “Ms. Shaw did her own … _bandaging_ of the wound. Oh, and one more thing,” he answered, looking at both of the hospital staff. “She’s not going to cooperate. So, yeah, good luck with that part of the deal.” He had been with Root too long to even blink at what this meeting was about.

* * *

Shaw marched off the elevator with her speech locked in place. She wasn’t going to be distracted this time! Root’s secretary, Jill, never even picked her head up when Sameen stomped past her and into Root’s office because her boss had told her to expect her.

Root was counting on two things – Shaw being upset that she left first, and being thrown when she found it was for a good reason.

* * *

“We have about a thirty second window here, John,” Root announced just as the fireball was about to burst through her door. “Three, two …one.”

Now, ordinarily, when you’re about to tell your lover slash boss that she didn’t play fair, and that you do the leaving first – each time, every time, well, you wouldn’t do it in front of other people. But those damn high backed conference table chairs impeded Shaw’s view of the other attendees.

Five feet, three inches of pure frustration stood in the doorway, locking her eyes on Root. As far as the angry Persian was concerned, she had forfeited the upper hand by not leaving in the middle of the night. She wasn’t going to let that happen again.

“Before you say one thing to me, I quit!” Shaw announced, the smug look appearing on her face for taking back control.

“Sameen?” Root said, aware that Shaw didn’t know they weren’t alone.

“Try and fire me first? You have to get up pretty early to put one over on me,” Shaw announced and then realized Root had gotten up early. “Don’t …..say…..it.”

“Shaw?” Sameen heard her name and wondered how Root got her voice so deep. John finally stood up when the hospital staff were wondering if they should have asked the resident psychiatrist to come.

“Reese?” Shaw said, wondering when he got there.

“Sweetie, I’m in a little meeting that I would love you to join. It’s about …security,” Root said walking to Sameen. She was hoping the way she said that last word would somehow make Shaw feel more secure.

“Oh my God,” Shaw whispered at her outburst, but Root assured her no one heard. “Everyone,” Root said to the two guests, this is Sameen Shaw. Sameen, I think you know Doctor Reynolds.”

Sameen grimaced, walked over to the table, and sat down where Root pointed. Right next to the surgeon.

“How are you feeling, Ms. Shaw?” the doctor asked pleasantly because the hospital Administrator explained what was at stake here.

“I know you. I’m good, thanks,” Shaw responded.

“Is that…..?” he was about to ask, but Root took over and explained to Shaw that BEAR was considering working with the hospital on their latest security platform and decryption program.

“I’m not …really in that security department,” Shaw said, as the Doctor stared down at her shoulder.

“Is that…duct tape?” he asked in utter amazement.

“I ran out of … _cough_ ……those sterilized pads,” Sameen lied.

“That’s amazing,” the doctor lied through his teeth. “It gives you mobility, that’s for sure.”

“Show him, Sameen,” Root all but squealed that her girl was getting attention.

“I’ve heard about skin occlusion in some patients coming into the ER,” the doctor said of some people, usually men, who duct tape their wounds until they can get it treated. “But yours seems to have the added benefit of flexibility.”

“Yeah,” Shaw said, not really caring what the surgeon thought. “How is that you’re here?” she asked, suspiciously.

“I’m here with Doctor Weller, on behalf of the hospital,” Dr. Reynolds explained. “Did you apply that directly to your wound?”

“Yeah, I was in a bit of a hurry,” Shaw explained.

“Oh, I would love to have seen you use a gauze pad, of course,” the surgeon, who never smiled, smiled.

“I was fresh out, like I said,” Shaw repeated.

John was waiting for Sameen to catch on that this was a set up, and then he’d have to throw his body in front of his boss to protect her.

“Would you mind, if I looked to see if the tape…..did any damage to the sutures? I would hate my excellent work to be undone by a three dollar roll of tape,” the surgeon asked.

Root was so excited that Shaw was going to have her wound looked at, that she missed the telltale sign that even John picked up on. The light bulb had gone off over Shaw’s head.

The ruse was up.

Shaw’s medical career taught her a lot about different diseases and ailments, but it also taught her a great deal about her fellow physicians. Surgeons were at the top of the medical food chain and they would never waste their precious time at meetings about security programs. Nor, would they come to see patients outside of their own offices.

Root had put them up to this, was the only conclusion Shaw came to. If that were true, she decided, then Root hadn’t left first; she left to put this entire façade together.

Shaw let out a long sigh and shook her head. “Sure,” she said and John sat back, surprised at how calm she was. She pulled at the tape to expose the wound to the man who had performed the operation.

“Well, it’s not …bad,” he said, still horrified at how it was fastened together. “Could I suggest some antibiotic ointment the next time?”

“Really?” Sameen said, scowling to indicate that she knew that.

“Well, Ms. Groves, I hope you will find everything in order,” the senior Administrator said, signing the papers before the genius changed her mind.

Root signed off, took her copies and promised that her team would follow up shortly with the hospital staff. “Well, that went very well,” Root announced, happy as could be.

One would have thought the CEO just closed a multi- million dollar deal in her favor, not the other way around. Root would have gone to any expense to make sure Shaw was okay.

She just had.


	47. Leading the Horse to Water.....

John smiled his usual knowing look and excused himself. Shaw didn’t seem too upset, so he felt it was safe to leave Root alone.

“Did you…you didn’t just have that doctor come up here …..and give them your program …..so he could see my ….?” Shaw asked, and the more she heard her questions, the more ridiculous it sounded.

“I was afraid …I might have injured your arm last night, or this morning. Well, last night and this morning, and I knew you wouldn’t just go to the doctor, so …I enticed them to come here,” Root explained as if it were a well thought out plan.

Shaw shook her head, rolled her eyes and admitted; “Do you ever do anything in a straight line or low key?” Then she got serious and said – “Look, when you were gone this morning, I thought …,” she couldn’t finish her sentence, but Root could.

“You thought I left,” Root declared correctly. “Sameen, I had the most wonderful time of my entire life last night and this morning. I would never leave, unless I needed to do something.”

“Okay,” Shaw said, unsure of where that left them.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” Root admitted and Shaw looked up at her.

“There’s always more with you,” she murmured.

“I ..was afraid,” Root admitted because she knew what her feelings were most of the time. “I thought you might want to leave; quit even. And I couldn’t bear to hear that just yet.” Root was so sincere, so vulnerable when she spoke about her feelings that it touched Shaw. It didn’t make her happy, but if affected her just the same.

“Well, I thought I should quit, you know,” Shaw said, her throat getting tight on her. “How is this ….I mean, you’re the boss….and I’m ……not.”

“Can I tell you something?” Root asked, smiling her sweet smile.

“If I say no, is it going to stop you?” Shaw asked, teasingly.

“I have fantasized about you since the minute we met,” Root shared and got lost for a moment.

“Am I tied up in all of them?” Shaw quipped quickly, unsure of how to handle the compliment.

“Not …all of them,” Root thought out loud, looking up at the ceiling to remember if that was true. She took a couple of steps closer, invading Sameen’s personal space. “I would never leave.”

Shaw stood there staring into soft brown eyes that seemed to shine when Root spoke like this. Of course, Sameen put her feelings into terms she was more comfortable with. “You’d make an easy target at night in the dark with those eyes.”

“Thank you, ” Root said, because she understood what Sameen meant. Just seeing the nonthreatening bruise on Shaw’s neck excited Root and she had to bite her own lip to keep from commenting on it.

“So, yeah, how are we going to do this?” Because I don’t see how I can work for ….you….. if we’re …..you know……,” Shaw coughed hoping Root would fill in the blanks.

“You mean how will I stand seeing you all day at work after we’ve had hot, incredible sex the night before?” Root postulated, and Shaw knew she should know better than to leave the fill in the blanks to Root.

“Yeah, something like that,” Shaw smiled, shaking her head. “What if it doesn’t ….work out? I don’t do relationships. So, if you’re look for long term or double dates, I’m not your girl.”

Nothing Shaw proposed was going to ruffle Root’s feathers. “Sameen, you don’t have to do relationships, as long as you’re doing …..me.”

Shaw knew she was being toyed with, but for some reason, she didn’t find it upsetting. “Okay,” she smirked, “.....are you just going to turn everything I say into an innuendo?”

“Unless you want me to make it into a promise,” Root countered.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, not touching that one. “So, you’re okay with this? No commitment? No promises? We just see where it goes? And if it doesn’t work, I’ll, you know, just leave,” Shaw said, offering the weakest exit strategy Root had ever heard in her life.

“One day at a time; Camp Fire Girl promise,” Root proclaimed, saluting Shaw.

“No - what time will you be home for dinner?” Shaw clarified.

“None,” Root answered, already thinking where she should make dinner reservations.

“I’ll see you when I see you, right?” Shaw asked, just to be clear that Root wasn’t shopping for towels with their initials on them.

“And if I’m not there, you can leave a message,” Root said, knowing hell would freeze over before that happened, but going along with Shaw’s demands.

“If you’re not there?” Shaw asked, because she didn’t consider that Root would have anything to add. “Oh, right,” she finally replied. “And no more elaborate schemes …like this one, okay?” Shaw asked, since Root was staring so dreamily at her and agreeing so easily.

“Okay,” Root said because there really wasn’t anything she wouldn’t agree to now that Shaw wasn’t quitting.

“And we’ll take this…you know, one day …. At a time…right?” Shaw repeated because she wasn’t exactly sure what her exit was if she wasn’t quitting or being fired.

“Yep,” Root agreed.

“Good,” Shaw said, as if it were a competition to have the last word. She shoved her hands in her pockets, and nodded her head. “Okay, I’m going to go back….”

“Great. I’ll see you…..around,” Root said smiling, knowing that she most definitely would.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, leaving ever so slightly mixed up.

First, she was quitting; then, she thought she was being fired; next, she expected Root to go overboard, but she seemed okay with taking things as they came. Shaw really had gotten what she came for. So, why was she feeling so unsettled?

As usual, she suspected Root was the cause, and felt like the solution was somehow covered in gossamer. If ‘ _gossamer_ ’ were a term Shaw would ever use, that is.

* * *

It took her a few minutes before she was in the elevator and realized she wasn’t alone. “How are you, Sameen?” Iris asked, this time bending forward so Shaw would see her.

Sameen just looked over at the woman. “I used up all my sessions, right?” Sameen asked because Iris had recommended three follow-ups.

“I’m not counting the one in the bathroom or the diner, so no,” Iris smiled gently. Silence filled the elevator. “Would you …want to come…in now?” Iris took the chance of asking.

“Now?” Shaw asked, already shaking her head no. “Why would you ask me that?

Iris figured it out right then and there. “Well, you’re actually required to come in ….so,” Iris explained. “Because you fired a weapon.”

She was met with dark eyes that fully conveyed their disdain. “Will it get Reese off my back then?” Shaw asked, as if John had been bugging her – which he hadn’t.

“You will have met your requirements,” Iris pointed out.

“Fine,” Shaw said, feeling she had to do it since it was mandatory. “I’ll make an appointment,” Shaw said, mocking the last word.

“I’ll be free this afternoon,” Iris assured her.

“I’ll see,” said the woman who detested commitment replied.

Shaw went back to her desk, and blocked out two o’clock as personal time.


	48. Drinking the Kool Aid

John didn’t need to know what was going on with his boss and Shaw; but he did need to make sure everyone in his department was fit for duty. He couldn’t have a staff member so distracted, they couldn’t do their job. He knew asking anyone else in the department for input was useless, even Martine. Shaw had managed to charm them all. John needed to talk to someone impervious to that charm.

He needed to talk to Harold.

“I admit, Miss Shaw could use a little work on her people skills,” Harold said and John raised his eyebrow to question the adjective.

“I was thinking of getting her involved in something that would help her interact,” John suggested.

“Yes, John, but with people?” Harold asked, expressing his concern.

“That’s the general idea when you’re working on….. _people_ …skills,” John pointed out dryly.

“She couldn’t be armed,” Harold stated his condition. “And it would have to be in broad daylight. And after she ate,” he continued.

“That leaves about ten minutes out of the day,” John indicated.

“How did the Central Park Basin rowboat exercise go?” Harold asked of the drill all security guards are put through in case someone falls into the water and needs to be rescued.

“She…wouldn’t let the instructor row,” John replied in his usual gravelly voice.

“Oh ,dear,” Harold said, wondering what it would take to help her learn not to be so aggressive.

“The defensive vehicle maneuvering test?” Harold asked, going down the list of the series of assessments new security agents were put through.

“She drove off in the car,” John answered. “To be fair, it was the Lamborghini,” he said in her defense.

“Perhaps something she can’t overpower,” Harold suggested.

John thought about that. He needed something that Shaw wouldn’t feel compelled to be aggressive with. “I think I know the perfect project for Shaw,” John said and smiled.

“John, the person must be able to handle themselves around abrasive … _assertive_ …..people,” Harold corrected himself.

“Oh, this one can without a doubt,” John said, nodding his head that he thought he found the perfect solution. John thanked Harold for his endorsement of what he was about to do, and Harold wasn’t entirely sure he had done any such thing.

* * *

If John had any doubt about his plan, seeing the firearms instructor when he got off the elevator sealed the deal. The man was an expert in every weapon imaginable. He was six feet four inches of steel nerves and a quiet demeanor. When John saw him, the man looked like he had been through the ringer. “Charlie?” John asked meaning – what the hell happened to you.

“Shaw,” the man barely got out. “Weapons training,” he gasped as he chugged down a bottle of water.

“Did she do okay?” John inquired.

“Okay?” the man nearly spat the water out with his word. “She was your typical hotshot marine, nothing new there. But then she dismantled every single gun and rifle before I could get all the casings off the floor. Told me the real test is in whether or not someone can take apart and put back their gun. AND, get this,” the man said exasperated, “She suggested I get the rest of the mall cops to try and put them back! They’re all over the room in pieces!”

John looked over at Shaw who was sitting with her feet up on her desk, eating. She was the worst kind of staff member – she was smarter than the rest of them …..and she knew it.

“It’s not a bad idea, Charlie. Make it happen,” John said, because of course, Shaw had a point.

“Oh, you’re kidding me,” the man complained thinking of what some of those staff members would do with the assignment.

* * *

John walked over to Sameen’s cubicle with the results of her initiation exams. “Shaw,” he greeted her and Sameen looked up at him.

“Reese,” she said back.

“I got the results of your evaluations,” he said, as he flipped through the several sheets on a clipboard.

“Yeah?” Shaw said, rolling her eyes to indicate how disinterested she was. “Did I get promoted?” she mocked because she knew she was the best security person on staff, with the exception maybe of John.

“Yes,” John said seriously. “Now you get to participate in the BEAR Outreach Program,” he said, and smiled at Sameen in a way that didn’t make her think this was the kind of promotion she wanted.

“What is that, like …we…reach…out or something? What are we going into the neighborhood and selling Root’s programs?” Shaw laughed.

“You’ll see,” John said, walking away. “Be here at three o’clock.”

“Be here at three o’clock,” Shaw mocked quietly. “I could be out shopping for shoes with my boss, or taking the dog to his barking lessons, or helping the NYPD with another drug bust!” she yelled.

“Three o’clock, Shaw,” John yelled back.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sameen responded with the enthusiasm of a teenager going to violin practice. With the rest of her fellow staff members out of the office, Sameen went to her HR friend to ask her what the Outreach Program was.

* * *

“Mr. Reese? Wants you? To participate in that?” Janine asked slowly, her face riddled with puzzlement.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Shaw fired back. “What’s the big deal? Am I going to hate it and is it something I can get out of?”

“It’s a really big deal here. Mr. Finch and Ms. Groves have spearheaded it and are very enthusiastic about it,” Janine explained.

“I hate it already,” Shaw huffed. “Are you in it?” she asked, narrowing her eyes on the HR woman.

“No,” Janine said very slowly. “We usually don’t get too many ….people…who want to be in Human Resources. But security!” she emphasized. “That’s much more exciting.”

“So, it’s like a job fair thing or something?” Shaw guessed incorrectly.

“John selects the people he wants and Harold has to approve it. It’s very selective,” Janine said, not mentioning that she meant selective in the sense that you had to have need for the program. “I’ll get you some information on it.”

“Yeah, that would be good,” Shaw said, realizing it was time for her session with Iris.

* * *

Iris found herself looking forward to seeing Sameen. She forgave herself for manipulating the truth in order to get her to come in, but decided it made it easier for Sameen. The therapist looked over her notes on Shaw: Idle threats, at least she believed they were idle, to do someone harm were simply an expression of her aggressive behavior. And her hostile cover up was to keep feelings at bay. She didn’t believe for a minute she was truly an Axis II Personality.  
Iris welcomed Sameen warmly, then sat down in the chair opposite the couch and readied herself with a pad and pen. She wore a pale blue dress with pearls and Shaw tried to decide, if they met under different circumstances, would she like Iris. “Probably not,” she said out loud and Iris asked her to repeat that.

“I’m only here because I have to be,” Shaw declared in an attempt to feel safe in the room where she felt most exposed. “Not because I have anything to talk about,” she clarified, to make sure Iris understood.  
Iris understood just fine.

“Well, since you are here, why don’t we talk about what’s been going on with you,” Iris suggested.

“Nothing, nothing’s been going on with me,” Shaw deflected.

“Can we talk about ….last night?” Iris gently approached, meaning when Shaw barged into the diner where she and Fusco were having a bite to eat.

“What?” Shaw yelled, thinking the impertinent therapist was going to ask her about what happened when she went to Root’s apartment. “I swear, for a company that prides itself on selling people security systems, the employees’ personal lives are scattered out there in the wind. Why would I talk about that? Isn’t that personal?”

Once, again, Iris gently led Sameen back to what she was actually asking. “I was referring to your impromptu visit to the diner, when you said that something set you off,” Iris noted and looked down at her pad which told Shaw she was keeping notes.

“Can I see that?” Shaw said, and her hand shot out for the pad.

“It’s notes that I write to help me when we talk,” Iris said, not budging. She wasn’t allowing Sameen to cross another boundary.

Sameen finally realized the woman she could snap in two wasn’t giving in. “Okay, fair enough,” Shaw said, thinking it was very unfair. “I’ll keep notes, too,” she warned, pointing to her temple. “Right here.”

“What was it that set you off, Sameen?” Iris asked, staying on track and annoying the hell out of her client.

Shaw’s leg began to tremor just a little as her body tried to expel the anxiety she denied was building. She was trying to decide if she shouldn’t just bite the bullet and talk or was she even allowed to talk about her boss to Iris. “I’m going to talk hypothetically here, Doc, since I have to be here, okay?” Sameen decided and reminded the woman ….again.

“Okay,” Iris agreed.

“Let’s say…hypothetically, I had the opportunity …last night…to act on…some of my…,” Shaw said haltingly because the next word was making her choke, “….. _feelings_.”

There! Done!

Sameen sat back, a smirk on her face as if she just completed a very tough task.

“And did you act on these feelings after you left …the diner?” Iris asked and Sameen actually groaned loudly.

“Is there any way I can say all of this, without you repeating snippets of what I say? Do they teach you that because I really think it’s a course they might want to reconsider because it is annoying as all hell,” Shaw stated bluntly.

“See?” Iris noted undaunted by the outburst. “You’re sharing how you feel with me about how I conduct the session. That’s important, Sameen.”

Shaw as beginning to see Iris as the gum you step in and can’t get off your shoe for the rest of the day. “Look, the problem with your whole theory about expressing our feelings,” Shaw lectured with little patience, “…is that they feel good, really good for short time. Okay, more than a short time,” she admitted as she reflected back to how their evening carried over to the morning. “But there are consequences. You let them out once, and they think they have free reign over your life.”

“So, you’re concerned that the feelings you expressed last night…..and this morning, might take over because they’ll want to be expressed again?” Iris summarized.

"Yes!” Shaw said, knowing that the woman was bright and would eventually catch on. “Now, you have it.”  
Iris didn’t say anything and let the silence fill the space, knowing Sameen would detest it.

“This is…complicated,” Sameen said, giving Iris a little more to go on to help her along.

“What makes it complicated?” Iris asked.

Shaw chastised herself for not seeing that question coming. “After I left you,” Shaw started and was already biting her lip as if unconsciously trying to stop herself from talking, “…..I can’t handle this place, Doc. Maybe someone who doesn’t care if people are messing with their heads all day can handle it, but I like things in ….in containers,” Shaw explained of her talent to compartmentalize her life. “It helps me, it’s what I do,” she said.

“So, you do boxes?” Iris asked, using Shaw’s vernacular.

“What the hell does….oh, yes, I get it. Yes, I like things ….neat. I like to keep my life simple. And because I followed your advice of acting on my feelings, my containers are spilled all over the place!” Shaw complained, getting up to walk around. “It’s a mess!"

she said of the visual she had of her life.

“Sameen, let me ask you, did any of this …spillage …feel okay to you?” Iris asked.

“Oh, it felt great!” Shaw confessed, on a slightly different page than the therapist. “I mean it was incredible; like earth shattering good,” Shaw said, looking out the window now. Iris quickly caught on that Sameen was talking about the particulars.

“That …sounds like a good thing,” Iris said softly.

Shaw felt just as confused now as when she walked in the door, which is why she didn’t think any of this, was helping. She had to admit, though, Iris was right about one thing. Last night and this morning with Root had been a good thing.

Sameen had enough of that and segued into something less stressful – or so she thought.

“So, I have to participate in some lame ass program called Outreach,” she shared, sitting back on the couch.

“Really?” Iris asked, and there was no mistaking the surprise in her tone. “Are you ..interested in working with children?”

“I’m not interested in …..,” Shaw was going to affirm when she heard the last work. “With ….what?”

“The Outreach Project is the company’s premier charity program,” Iris said excited to discuss it.

“What do you mean…children? Like …short people?” Shaw asked, horrified.

Iris laughed softly at Sameen’s question. “It’s a program where neighborhood high school students, usually from disadvantaged backgrounds, are matched with an employee for some one-on-one guidance and mentoring,” Iris explained.

“What the hell kind of program is that?” Shaw asked perturbed.

“It’s actually won awards…..,” Iris was saying to show Sameen that it was a very well run program that benefited local teens.

“Hell no!” Shaw declared and decided Reese was doing it as a punishment because she …well, the list was so long, she was losing count. “I have to go, Doc. I have to …no!” Shaw declared and stormed out.

* * *

Iris wrote some notes, and walked over to get Harold on the phone. He confirmed that he and John thought it would be a wonderful exercise in learning people skills, and that’s why they were having Sameen participate. John had filled Harold in on the particulars ….via email. Iris affirmed that she thought it would be a worthwhile endeavor.

Then, she returned to her chair and gave careful thought to how she was going to get Shaw to come back for more sessions. Sameen wasn’t demonstrating any of the behaviors that usually got people summoned to the therapist’s office.

The only thing Iris could think of was the original reason Shaw was there in the first place – she fired her gun.


	49. Eat a Snickers

Shaw was on a rampage! She was determined to get out of John’s latest attempt to get her to drink the company juice, as she called corporate brainwashing. “Hell to the no!” she declared, in no uncertain terms. “And you!” she said, pointing to Janine. “Not cool!”

“I’m so sorry, Sameen,” Janine cried, throwing herself on the mercy of the Shaw court. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you because we’re friends,” she pleaded.

Shaw stared at her and swore she saw tears forming in the woman’s eyes. “And I’m the one visiting the shrink!” she mumbled, rolling her eyes.

“There you are, Shaw,” John said, smiling the kind of grin where his teeth actually showed.

“I am not doing it!” Shaw bellowed before she realized John wasn’t alone.

“Right on time, too,” he noted because it was just three o’clock.

“I want my lawyer!” Shaw demanded, and then turned to Janine. “Do we get lawyers? We get everything else, why not lawyers?”

“Ms. Shaw, I would like to introduce Genrika Zhirova. Gen, this is Ms. Shaw,” John made the introductions.

Only then did Shaw notice the young curly haired girl standing there with a backpack on, staring at her with a very serious expression. Shaw could feel the weight of the youth’s long stare.

Genrika was the last one to sign up for the after school program and warned her guidance counselor she wouldn’t stay unless she was paired with a computer geek like herself. The short woman standing in front of her in a very agitated state did not look like she fit the bill. “What kind of code are you using?” the girl asked, folding her arms and looking Shaw up and down.

Sameen was actually taken aback by the long look the girl took. “Uhm, Reese? Could I see you for a minute?” she smiled and didn’t mean it.

“She doesn’t look like a computer geek to me,” the student stated openly.

* * *

Reese walked with Shaw into a conference room with a picture glass window. “Here, Shaw,” Reese said, tossing her a chocolate candy bar. It was like throwing raw meat into the lions’ cage.

“What is this?” she asked, grabbing the snack food. “Listen,” Shaw started as she unwrapped the bar and bit off a big piece, “….I don’t know ….chew/bite…..what it is that I did, …chew/bite…….to you or Harold, but you can’t do this, Reese. I don’t suck at much, “ Shaw said, and stopped to make sure he wasn’t going to counter that statement, “But I suck at kids. I don’t like them, they don’t like me, they’re whiny, they complain, they’re always eating, and they have….have temper tantrums,” Shaw said, throwing one of her own and finishing the candy.

John walked over to the candy machine in the break room where they were and slipped in more quarters for two more bars, as Shaw continued ranting. “Harold signed off on it, Shaw,” he explained. “We believe in giving back.”

“Giving back? What kind of lame ass….., “ and she held her tongue because she noticed the kid was staring at her through the window. “Okay, okay, giving back. We are giving back,” Shaw repeated as if it were the company mantra, which it practically was.

“What do I do, spend a few minutes showing her around?” she asked with a can-do attitude she learned in the marines.

John waited until he opened the door before he informed Sameen that it was a weekly program. Shaw stayed inside, trying to calm down and plot her revenge. Then she realized that she didn’t have to back out of her assignment, she could have the kid ask for someone else.

“Here, Gen,” John said pleasantly, handing her the two chocolate and peanut bars. “You might need these,” he said, throwing his eyes in the direction of her new mentor.

Shaw put together a plan quickly and emerged quieter and calmer. “So, I’m actually the least computer geekish person here,” Shaw announced straight faced. “I don’t even know how to use all the apps on my phone,” she tried.

“Then I can see we have a lot of work to do,” the young tech genius said, because she believed in paying it forward.

“They told me this was high school. How old are you?” Shaw asked, suspiciously.

“Eleven and a freshman. I’m advanced for my age. Accelerated program, so they say,” Gen said and Shaw liked that the kid understood sarcasm.

Shaw stood there, not sure where to place her eyes. “So, this is BEAR,” she said, sweeping the air with her hand.

“Did they make you do this?” the prodigy asked astutely.

“What?” Shaw asked, unnerved by how quick the kid was. “I…thought …..it started next week.”

“You’re not very good at lying,” the brave girl stated and Janine actually let out a groan of concern.

Shaw’s mouth opened and her jaw twisted while she thought of her options. “Okay, look, kid…,”

“My name is Gen,” the youth stated calmly.

Shaw took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. “Okay, look, Gen ….I’m not good with ……,” Shaw said pointing at her as if she couldn’t find the word.

“I get it,” Gen said and started to walk away.

Shaw was just thinking that went easier than she expected, when Janine’s head popped up with a look of shock on her face. “What?” Shaw asked, because it was the kid’s decision to leave. Shaw’s shoulder’s slumped down when her fear that this was not over was realized.

“Hey, kid, Gen,” she called out to the youth who was at the elevator now. “I have an idea. I happen to know a genius geek ….like yourself,” Shaw said awkwardly.

“MS.GROVES?” Gen said in total excitement.

“Yeah, the very same,” Shaw said, perplexed by how computer people fawned over each other.

“Could you get me in to see her?” Gen begged. “We’re supposed to be with someone every week, you know, a mentor and stuff, but I don’t need a mentor, no offense, but I would love to be able to talk to the woman who thought up Brenex,” Gen said almost dreamy eyed about Root’s code that could revolutionize apps.

Shaw stared at her. “Yeah, okay then, up we go.” She pressed the elevator button and went upstairs with the adolescent to Root’s office.

* * *

Root had spent the day – well, almost doing nothing, until she realized she had deadlines with deliverables on several projects. Root was good at multitasking and while she sat in meetings and made major decisions, her mind was also on Shaw. So, when she saw Sameen approaching the conference room where she sat, she was thrilled.  “Okay, everybody, that’s it for today,” Root said, dismissing the staff members because her favorite one was coming in the door. ‘God, she is a sight for sore eyes,’ Root thought and smiled so broadly, she almost didn’t see who Shaw was with.

“Hello, Sameen,” Root said and in spite of her efforts to make it sound business like, Gen immediately noticed how friendly the greeting was. “Oh, who is this?”

“My name is Genrika Zhirova,” the youth said and shook Root’s hand.

“Well, hello Genrika, welcome to BEAR,” Root said enthusiastically. “Ordinarily, I’d be jealous of any one of Shaw’s friends, but I think I can make an exception in this case.”

Shaw’s head snapped to look at Root. There were no subtleties – Root took off with the insinuations right out of the gate.

And with all the honestly of a girl her age, Gen admitted: “Oh, we’re not friends. I’m not sure yet, but I suspect Ms. Shaw doesn’t like children.”

“Hey, I never said I don’t like children. I said…this…this is why,” Shaw stammered to Root, her hand pointing to the girl.

Root smiled at the exchange and bit her lip because she found a flummoxed Shaw adorable. And she wasn’t even doing it this time.

“Now, I don’t think that’s true at all,” she said, taking Gen by the shoulder and asking her to sit down. “Ms. Shaw’s job is to protect and she is very serious about it.”

Shaw let out a long sigh. “So, she wants to talk geek talk and since I don’t speak that,” she explained, wanting to hand the kid off to Root.

“I have a great idea,” Root said and from the tone of her voice, Shaw was already shaking her head no. A lot. “Why don’t you let Ms. Shaw and me be your joint mentors?” she asked excitedly. “I could teach you about what we do at BEAR in programming and Ms. Shaw could be your mentor in…..,” and both of them looked at Shaw trying to decide what her area would be, until Root said …”….all things to do with being safe!”

Gen’s face scrunched up as she looked hard at Sameen, trying to decide. Shaw had been in meetings with high ranking commanding officers that scrutinized her less than this. “I don’t know,” Gen said hesitatingly. “Okay!” she agreed and Root practically giggled that this young genius could see something special in Sameen. “She’s really very good,” Root assured her.

“I thought she was a robot at first,” Gen confessed to her new friend. Then she remembered what John had given her. “Here,” she said in a friendly tone and very slowly slid one of the Snickers bars down the table to Shaw.

Sameen stared at the unsettling youth; then at Root who had not done what she had hoped, and then back at the snack food. It was a pathetic consolation, but she was hungry.

Shaw looked through magazines and played with Bear, while Gen sat listening attentively to Root as they sat at her large desk. “You keep looking over at her,” Gen whispered to Root because she couldn’t help but notice.

“Seriously, look at her,” Root said in a very normal voice, as Shaw wrestled with Bear on the floor. “Can you blame me?”

Gen was thrilled to have an opportunity to ask the genius CEO questions, but what she liked best, was that Root never once spoke down to her, the way most grownups did.

When it was time to go, Gen said she would write up her thoughts about what they discussed and email it to Root. And she would also write up questions for next week’s meeting. Then, she thanked Root profusely for this opportunity.

“I’m afraid I didn’t leave you any time to spend with Ms. Shaw,” said, practically pouting because of the tragedy she would feel it was if she were Gen.

Gen put her finger to her chin as she thought about that. “I’ll tell you what,” she said to Sameen. “I bet you can’t follow me home.”

“Follow you home? Why would I want to follow you home? Root, why would I want to follow her home?” Shaw asked, not wanting the answer because she didn’t want to do it.

“You really think you can get home without Ms. Shaw able to trail you?” Root said excited at the idea.

“No!” Shaw said, but they were talking over her.

“I am proposing that Ms. Shaw will lose my trail within two blocks of this building and not find me,” Gen said confidently.

“She is a former marine and CIA, you know,” Root said seriously in case the young girl wanted to reconsider.

“Oh,” Gen said, casting her eyes down as she thought about that and Shaw smirked. “Make that one block then.”

“What!” Shaw said, insulted by the youth’s change of dare. “I am not….Root! I am not chasing her around,” Sameen said, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

Gen looked at Root and gave her a – _see, I told you_ , - kind of look. Root’s eyebrow arched as she watched Sameen’s resistance start to cave. “Can’t chase what you can’t find,” Gen said, because in spite of the shorter woman’s agitated manner, there was something she liked about Sameen.

It was too mind boggling for Shaw to resist. The kid had insulted her abilities and lowered the bar.

Root smiled to think how fast Gen learned to get under Shaw’s skin.

“I will give you sixty seconds, and then I’m coming after you,” Shaw threatened. Her tone alone should have scared the youth, but Gen squealed with delight as she ran for the elevator.

“I really like her,” Root said, smiling ear to ear.


	50. Breadcrumbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I changed the part with Gen's cousin - Vadim. It doesn't make him more likeable, but i needed to  
> clarify what he was offering Shaw to make it less evil.

Root sat on top of the conference table, her feet on a chair, biting into a juicy red apple, as Sameen stared at her watch’s second hand. _God, how she loved Sameen’s intensity….about everything_. The way Root saw it; this was a win-win situation for her. If Sameen found Gen, as she expected she could, she would take her out to celebrate. If for some reason, Sameen couldn’t find the prodigy in the streets of Manhattan, she would take her out to console her.

Or back to her apartment. That worked, too.

“Let’s go!” Shaw cried when the dial hit one minute and with the precision of the sergeant leading her troops into battle. Root hopped off the table and ran after her, calling Bear.

“No, he can’t come. She’ll accuse me of cheating,” Shaw said, and grimaced at how she even knew that. She pushed away thoughts of how she might have been suckered into this.

The elevator, which Sameen swore was the slowest one in the entire borough, finally arrived. “You need your own elevator,” she said to her boss when people from other floors got on. She pushed them out of her way when they arrived in the lobby and Root just smiled apologetically at them. “She’s…in a hurry,” Root explained.

* * *

John and Harold were in the lobby about to leave the building, when they saw Genrika running out through the front doors. Then Root and Shaw appeared shortly thereafter.

“Good first day with Gen, Shaw?” John asked, wondering if she wasn’t the reason Gen was running.

“Miss Shaw, you didn’t ….,” Harold started to ask, trying to choose his words carefully. “Threaten her…..in ….any….way?”

“Harry!” Root chastised him and gave him a look. “Gen and Shaw are involved in a very high stakes game of espionage.”

John looked at Root, then Shaw, trying to imagine what that actually meant. “You’re not bringing Bear?” he asked astutely.

“Sameen says that would be cheating,” Root explained.

“What exactly are you supposed to be doing?” Harold, who couldn’t figure it out on his own, asked.

“No time,” Shaw said and ran out the front doors; Root right behind her.

* * *

Shaw was walking fast one way, when she changed her mind and turned quickly the other way and ran right into Root. She realized just how much taller Root was when she had to look up. Advantage – Shaw.

“What do you see?” Shaw said because the street was crowded and Root could see more that she could. But while Root was trying to decide if she was supposed to help, Shaw caught sight of the curly haired girl heading north. “Lose her in a block, my ass,” Shaw cursed, moving through the crowd like a bull in a china shop …with an attitude. Suddenly, Gen turned down a block, but Shaw could still see her. But she saw the clever mop-head turn around and spot Shaw. “Dammit!” she uttered and Root bit her lip and tried to look concerned when Sameen shot her a look. Shaw walked slower; Root copied her pace, and Gen made off like a bat out of hell.

Then, something dawned on the genius child. She decided that maybe she wanted Shaw to find her – or at the very least, follow her. She slowed up her pace and walked straight down the avenue, not zigzagging. After a few blocks, she stopped to turn a corner, just so she could peek back around to see where her new friends were. True to her word, though, she had lost them. She stretched her neck up to see if she could spot them, but they weren’t there. Then, she stepped back out onto the avenue and stood there – as if waiting for them to find her. Nothing. “Stupid grownups,” she muttered, pushing down the hurt from another disappointment. She walked all the way downtown to what New Yorker's call, Alphabet City, where blocks are lined with low income projects. Every few blocks, she turned around, but when each glance ended in frustration, she stopped looking. It wasn’t a lack of energy that caused the pre-teen to drag herself towards the tall building that was filled with poor families sandwiched in with society’s undesirables; it was that she had broken her golden rule.

She had hoped.

Genrika stuffed the hurt down and pushed the filthy glass door to the lobby that was filled with dirty furniture in hopes of giving it a homey feel. Getting in the elevator was always dicey because you never knew who was getting on with you, so Gen waited to make sure no one was there and then made a bee-line for it.

Then she heard someone talking to her.

“The way I see it, kid; not only did I trail you successfully, I managed to get here before you, too. That, my friend, is good stuff,” Shaw said to her and gave her a slow wink that practically melted her heart.

Gen’s chest burst with joy and it had been so long since that happened that she wasn’t sure what to do. She wanted to scream and cry and her stomach hurt. But mostly her heart filled up with a warm feeling that someone cared enough to follow her.

“I told you she was good,” Root said smiling. Then she took a look around and realized where they were. She had been following Shaw so closely once Sameen figured out where Gen was headed, that Root hardly noticed how far they had walked. Shaw’s espionage work hit a wall when she couldn’t get any info on the girl from the school. So, she used her other resource and now owed Fusco dinner. Kids on welfare are in the system.

“Get over here,” a man yelled at her and Gen jumped when she heard him. “Where have you been?” he asked, and from his appearance, it was easy for Shaw to see he was a user.

“Do you know him?” Shaw asked the girl.

“My…cousin, Vadim,” she said and Shaw could tell, she wasn’t afraid of him.

“You got friends?” he asked and tried to slick his hair back in place. He was walking towards them when he caught sight of Shaw’s dead stare.

“If she cooks or cleans for you, we only take cash,” the addict declared, because his next high was unforeseeable.

“Take her to her apartment,” Shaw said to Root, standing between Gen and her relative.

“He’s okay,” Gen said because she was raised to believe that no matter what, you protect your family.

“Yeah?” Shaw said and moved towards him.

“Let’s go upstairs and let Sameen talk to him,” Root said, trusting the hell out of Shaw. Although, just because Root trusted her, didn’t mean she wanted the young girl to see what Shaw was going to do.  
Root ushered the girl into the elevator and smiled when it closed. “He uses the money he gets for me, but he gets food first,” Gen said because he never abused her physically.

“I’m sure Sameen will take that into consideration,” Root said as they made their way to Gen’s apartment.

* * *

“Did you just offer me your own flesh and blood,” Shaw growled as she pushed the weakling up against the wall.

He felt as if a ton of bricks just sweep him away and he coughed to catch his breath. “That kid; she can cook and clean, maybe,” he said, afraid of losing a customer.

“I would end your miserable little life right her and now if I thought she would be better off,” Shaw said as her lip curled up.

“Hey, you can’t threaten …okay, okay,” he thought better.

“I’m going to have someone visit you, Vadim,” she spat. “Someone who’s going to help you with your problem. And you better let them help, Vadim, or so help me God, I’ll come back to help you. Do you understand me?”

Shaw hadn’t lessened her grip on him and the man was getting paler by the minute. “Yes, yes,’ he coughed. She finally let him go, her jaw clenched tight and her fists in balls.

“Take me to her,” she said and he bent over as he walked to the elevator.

* * *

Shaw entered the apartment that looked like it had already been ransacked. Gen was sitting at a makeshift desk, where stacks of books were piled. “I hope to make an app someday that will help people ….,” she was saying and stopped when she saw Sameen and her cousin.

He coughed repeatedly and went into the bathroom.

“I’ll be okay,” she assured the women. “He’ll pass out soon and I have a ton of homework to do.”

“O…..kay,” Root said, unsure of what to do next.

“Someone is coming with dinner,” Shaw said, but Gen assured them that she was fine and had dinner planned.

“He says that to everyone.  No one takes him up on it and, anyway, I’m a terrible cook.”  The girl noticed the way Shaw kept staring at the door like she was contemplating finishing off the job she started.  “Hey, I lost,” Gen said, standing erect now in front of Shaw.

“Yeah, you did,” Shaw said, refocusing her attention on the girl. “The way I see it, you owe me a Snickers.”

“Really? That’s all?” the young girl asked, surprised. “I was going to make you pay much more.”

“Well, that’s because you’re the tech genius, and I’m just the security expert,” Shaw said, smiling.

Root wanted to hug both of them as she watched the interplay.

“I’ll bring it next week,” Gen said and stuck out her hand to Sameen.

Shaw didn’t move and looked down at the girl. “You’re supposed to shake my hand. Good sportsmanship,” Gen explained, thinking she really needed to point that out.

Shaw took her hand and shook it.

“Thanks for not … _killing_ him,” Gen said, looking away because she didn’t want to insult Sameen, but she also knew – from the little she saw – Sameen was the kind of woman who could have.

“You got a cell phone?” Shaw asked and the girl looked at her like she had two heads. “Just….get you cell phone and put my number in it,” she said, rolling her eyes at how difficult kids could be.

Gen did and gave Sameen her number. Then she asked for Root’s number and Root could see – they were the only two numbers in the girl’s directory.

“See you next week!” Gen said when she walked them to the door and said goodbye.

* * *

In the elevator, Root watched as Shaw processed what was going on and what they could do. By the time she got downstairs, she was calling Fusco back and telling him what she wanted done.

“ _You want me to deliver dinner? You know I’m not a social worker by night, right, Shaw?” he huffed into the phone. “Oh, you want me to bring a social worker? That specializes in drug rehab? Sure, I keep one of those in my desk drawer. I’ll just bring her with me. Anything else, Shaw?” he asked – as he set out to do just as his friend asked._

* * *

Shaw was silent the whole way back to Root’s apartment. She didn’t say anything when Root called a cab and gave them her address. She just sat there, staring out the window, brooding. Root kept waiting for Shaw to realize where they were, but she just followed as they walked into Root’s building and went up to the Penthouse.

“We could get some….,” Root said when they were inside, but suddenly, Shaw was coming at her fast. Shaw’s mouth was on hers and Root could feel her bottom lip swell when Shaw bit hungrily at it. “Oh, Sameen,” Root said, feeling like Shaw’s cup of emotions was not just running over, it was flooding.

She grabbed Sameen by the arms and pulled her in, but Shaw was fighting to be in control. She pushed at Root, moving in tandem until their bodies fell backwards, onto the dining room table – again. Shaw pulled at her own clothing, and ripped Root’s which sent her into a frenzy.

Shaw was hurting and all she wanted was Root, but she was unaccustomed to someone giving her what she needed. She hated that Root had this effect on her, but her body craved it more than the junkie needed his fix.

“No,” Shaw suddenly said because she knew that Root was not something to be conquered. She stood back, unsure of what to do.

“Yes,” Root said, knowing exactly where Shaw was and what was going on. She pulled Sameen back on top of her and bit at her ravenously. She filled her mouth with soft flesh as her hands pushed Sameen into her, their bodies igniting a fire neither of them had ever known. “Yes!” Root said, as her hands found their target and slowed down to an agonizing pace that Shaw’s body could not resist.

Shaw’s eye clasped shut and the tension mounted to an unbearable point and then exploded. She cried out a guttural moan, unable to hold back what had been building inside of her. “God, Root!” she yelled before her body quivered and collapsed.

“I’m here,” Root said, wrapping her arms around the limp body on top of her.

She could feel Shaw’s chest move up and down as her breathing remained ragged.

And then, Root was almost certain she felt a tear hit her chest.


	51. Healthy Eating

Root stayed as still as she could, except for her hand that trailed up and down Shaw’s back. Finally, Shaw got up, pulling Root with her to the bedroom. Shaw didn’t speak, but her actions did – as she consumed Root’s body in gentle bites and ministrations that left her spent and breathless. Shaw fell back next to her lover; sweaty and satisfied that there was still something in this world she was in charge of.

Root wasn’t surprised when she opened her eyes in predawn darkness and heard Shaw leaving. She had to be first this time. A crushed piece of paper lay on the dining room table where Shaw tried to explain everything she was feeling. Root carefully unfolded it and saw the word – ‘thanks’ – written. Sameen thought it sounded lame, so she crumpled it up. Root held it to her heart, treasuring it.

* * *

Shaw went home, showered and changed clothes and went back out, all before the sun woke up.

Fusco was making his way back from the bathroom, his bladder doing the ungodly thing of waking him before his alarm. That’s when he saw the intruder. “GEEZUS!” he yelled, because he was in his boxers and t-shirt, without his revolver. “What did I say about doing this?” he said sternly, as he tried to catch his breath.

“You need a cleaning lady, Lionel,” Shaw said, sitting at the kitchen table.

“Yeah, well you give me so many jobs that I don’t have time to take care of my own priorities,” he said, sitting down and running his fingers through his hair. “You want coffee?”

“Yours?” Shaw asked because that could be a deal breaker.

“No, Shaw, I was thinking I’d run down to Starbucks in my underwear and get you the exact kind you like because you know, you’re so thoughtful,” he quipped.

“Geez, Lionel,” Shaw said thinking the man was particularly cranky that morning. “Don’t get you boxers all up in a bunch. I’ll take yours.”

“Gee, thanks,” Lionel said, getting up and putting the coffee maker on. He put the kitchen light on and got out the milk.

“That better not be sour,” Shaw warned. He gave her a look to dial it back and she shifted in her seat because he was right and she knew it.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company at this godforsaken hour?” he said, sliding over a cup filled with coffee.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Sameen said. “Did you visit that kid?”

“Yeah,” Lionel said, thinking he should be compensated for this visit by cutting a piece of pound cake. “What’s the deal with her? Russian immigrant, mother arrested, living with the grandfather until he died and now she’s living with the scumbag cousin?”

“I threatened him,” Shaw said, sipping the coffee and refusing the cake. “That stuff is poison,” she commented and Lionel just stared at the woman who was a human garbage disposal of unhealthy food.

“Yeah, he mentioned a crazy short woman …,” Lionel said, forgetting the rule.

“What! Why do people call me short?” Shaw raised her voice.

“That’s the adjective that bothers you?” her host asked.

Shaw grunted because she would never have stopped by if she had known Lionel was so good at making sense this early in the morning. “Did you bring the social worker?”

“You know I had dinner plans which I had to cancel, thank you very much,” Lionel said.

“Did Vadim talk to the social worker?” Shaw asked, skipping over Lionel’s point until she thought about it. “Was it with Iris? Are you dating my shrink?” Shaw said, and it was a mixture of enthusiasm and caution in her voice.

“Oh, she’s your shrink now,” Lionel deflected the question. “Geez, what happened to your neck?” he asked, just catching sight of the purple mark that was only beginning to fade.

“I cut myself shaving,” Shaw wisecracked. “So, it was her,” she deduced by the way he wouldn’t answer the question.

Now Lionel could have kept this up and not answered, but he knew Shaw was unshakeable when she sunk her teeth in. “Yeah, yeah, we were just going for coffee,” he confessed.

Shaw slapped her leg and pushed back in her seat, looking smug. “I knew it!” she laughed. “I knew you two would hit it off. Her being a therapist and you being crazy and all,” Shaw said, saying the punch line slowly so Lionel got the full effect of her joke.

“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy these middle-of-the-night visits, Shaw?” he answered back. “And aren’t you supposed to be in a better mood …..,” he said looking right at her to make sure she was listening, “……now that you’re getting some.”

If Fusco aimed his revolved at Shaw’s head, he couldn’t have made a better shot. Their banter was like a tennis match on speed and when the remark was out of bounds, it was way out of bounds. His tease just crossed that line.

“What the hell does that mean?” Shaw demanded, and her tone was pure fire. “Did she…”

“Shaw!” Lionel yelled in a hushed tone because he didn’t want to wake up his son, Lee …or the neighborhood. “No! No one told me anything. I thought …maybe….,” he said, taking a long gulp of coffee so he didn’t have to finish that thought and pointed to her love bite.

“Don’t _think_ , Lionel,” Shaw said, unable to look at him because he had brilliantly construed the right answer.

“Can I tell you about the kid?” he asked, getting Shaw back on track. “She’s a sweet kid. Very taken with you, apparently,” he said and needed a minute to stop shaking his head at that news. “And Cocoa Puffs, too. She pretty much comes and goes as she pleases. There was some food in the place and the social worker said she would check to make sure someone from Child Services is checking in on them.”

“And the cousin?” Shaw asked, wanting the full report.

“Dee said she would take him to a rehab program, but the good ones require that you stay. That leaves the kid alone and they would have to take her into Foster Care if that happens. The kid was pretty upset about that because she’s in a special high school for smart kids. She said she’d come back next week after they thought about it.”

“So if we get the cousin cleaned up, she loses her home,” Shaw said, feeling like they were caught. “Can you take her in?”

“What?” Fusco asked, spitting his coffee back into this cup. “You want me to take in an eleven year old girl?”

“You got one kid, Fusco. What’s the big deal?” Shaw asked.

“They’re not puppies, Shaw. They don’t come in litters,” Lionel explained.

Shaw expected that Fusco could solve the problem; not open up a can of worms. She needed someone else who had better resources. “Okay,” she said, getting up. “You should get some sleep, Lionel. You look like hell.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” he said, putting the cups in the sink and walking Shaw to the door.

“Thanks, Lionel,” Shaw said, trying hard as hell not to think that showing appreciation was a sign of weakness.

“Was that Shaw, Dad?” Lee asked, sleepy-eyed when he heard the door close. “She okay?”

“Yeah, she was just being Shaw,” Lionel said, kissing his son on the head and telling him to go back to sleep.

* * *

Shaw was on a mission – something she actually excelled at nicely. She grabbed breakfast at a diner until she could go to work.

Harold had called Root last night to see if everything was okay. “She was speaking in a very hushed tone, like I woke her up, or someone was there,” he explained to John that morning as they went upstairs to their offices.  
John remained silent the entire time because he was not going to help Harold figure this one out.

“Good morning,” Harold greeted his secretary who never said a word about his visitor.

Then he saw it. Or rather, her.

Sameen was sitting in his chair, her feet up on his desk, and the worst part – she was chewing something.  
“Are….you…eating at …my computer?” he asked horrified.

Shaw lost track of time and didn’t realize how soon he would be there. She jumped in the seat, pulled her feet off his desk and tried to straighten out the papers she messed up, all the while shaking her head no, but then saying yes because her mouth was full.

“It’s ….okay…..Miss Shaw, just…..slowly back ….away…..,” he said with great trepidation as he walked slowly towards her.

“Oh, sowee, Hahwald,” Shaw said, the breakfast bar sticking sideways in her mouth.

A large cup of Starbucks coffee sat precariously next to the keyboard and Harold wanted her to back away and not touch it.

Which of course, she did.

“I’ll just get this….,” she said, and Harold yelled – no! – and startled her - which made her hand hit the cup and sent it flying – spilling the contents onto the keyboard and the desk. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Shaw said, looking for napkins and – much to Harold’s revulsion – took one out of the wastepaper basket.

“That’s fine, Miss Shaw. No, that’s really okay,” Harold said, now slowly guiding the woman away from his desk.

“Are you sure?” Shaw asked, because he was leaving the puddle of caffeine unattended.

He waved for his assistant to help and then took Shaw to the neutral zone – the conference room. “What is it I can help you with, Miss Shaw?” Harold asked, sitting a good distance away.

“Well, that kid that's in your program,” Sameen started.

“Genrika?” he asked, interrupting her.

“Yeah, Gen. She’s in a tough situation,” Sameen started and explained the whole story to Harry. Surely, she thought, he could pull strings and get her in a good home with good people.

“Well, I’m not sure what I can do, Miss Shaw,” Harold said, giving the situation a lot of thought. “But I will look into it.”

Shaw was pleased and believed that Harold would figure something out.

* * *

Root arrived at work and hesitated momentarily when the elevator opened at Shaw’s floor. She decided to go upstairs to her own office first. She was pleasantly surprised when Shaw was already in her office.

“Well, good morning,” Root said in a cheery voice that told Shaw she wasn’t upset she left in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” Shaw said, turning and stuffing her hands into her pockets.

“I wanted to go over my schedule,” Root said, because as her bodyguard, Shaw needed to know that. “Did you have breakfast?”

“I had….a little,” Shaw said even though she had a full breakfast before dawn and a breakfast bar in Harold’s office. “Hey….look,” Shaw finally said, because she didn’t want Root to think she just up and left. “About last night….”

“Sweetie,” Root said, closing the distance between them. “Last night was great. Everything is good, okay?” and Root meant that she was okay with Shaw leaving when she needed to.

One would think Sameen would be relieved that there was no pressure from Root about the conditions of their arrangement. But Shaw was used to people putting demands on her and using that as an excuse to leave. Root was too clever for that.

The closer Root got to Shaw, the harder it was to act nonchalant. Shaw ran her fingers through her long, thick hair and sent it cascading. Those dark eyes that Root could stare in for hours, were staring back at her. And Shaw’s lips could not have been more inviting.

“I could eat,” Shaw said, thinking they were still talking about that.

“Oh, I bet you could,” Root said and didn’t even blush.

“Root!” Shaw said, getting her exact meaning and looking to see if anyone else was there.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” Root said gleefully because she loved teasing Shaw.

It was her second favorite thing to do to the woman.

Root had breakfast prepared and the two women ate in her office. Shaw told Root how she had Fusco visit Genrika and how she asked Harry to look into placing her in a good home.

“That’s not good,” Root said, having been in some really terrible ones. “We have to do something else.”

“Yeah?” Shaw said, her mouth full of scrambled eggs and bacon. And toast. And juice.

“Do you know that app she’s working on?” Root asked because that’s what Gen was showing her.

“No,” Shaw reminded her. “I was busy kicking the cousin’s ass while you two were chatting.”

“She’s developed an app, Sameen that would allow your phone to sync with any phone within a certain radius.” Root said excited.

“What does that mean?” Shaw asked, more interested in her food than technology.

“It means that prodigy is going to become very rich,” Root explained as Shaw ate.

Root talked about how they could help Gen and her invention. Then, with the finesse and skill of a lion tamer, Root gently took the linen napkin off the table and wiped the ketchup off of Shaw’s mouth. Shaw never flinched and Root took that as a giant leap forward.

The closer Root could get to Shaw’s mouth, the better.


	52. Surprise With Every Meal

Root couldn’t remember a time in her life when she wanted anything as badly as she wanted to devour Sameen as she touched her lip. She was so lost in that thought, that Shaw finally realized what was happening.

“Root?” Shaw said, trying to call her attention to the fact that she was daydreaming. “Root!”

“Oh,” Root said, happy that she was so lost in her thoughts – her very lovely thoughts. She withdrew her hand with the napkin and smiled.

“Root, you can’t be…..,” Shaw said, her head jerking back and forth trying to convey her message.

Root was unfazed. “Did I ever tell you my theory about how we’re all shapes?” she asked, leaning on her hand as she bent her elbow and stared.

“Shapes? Okay, no,” Shaw said, wondering if there was any way to stop this conversation.

“We are; all of us,” Root mused as she ignored Sameen shaking her head. “But you? You are an ….,” she was about to share when John knocked on the door and came in.

“I need Shaw,” he said.

“Not more than I do,” Root murmured, but John heard her anyway.

“Root!” Shaw said, through gritted teeth.

“Sorry,” Root said, shrugging; her smiling eyes giving no indication she really meant that. And then to prove she wasn’t regretful, she asked; “Can I have her back when you’re done?”

Sameen closed her eyes, shook her head and went with John.

“Oh, hey kids, before you go,” Root said, getting up and going to her desk. “Look what I invented, sort of,” she said taking two small devices and showing them to Shaw and Reese.

“Ear pieces?” Reese asked. “What do we need…?”

“When you put them in, you can speak to each other….,” Root said as she handed one to Reese and then proceeded to put one directly in Shaw’s ear. “….or I can speak to you.” And there was no mistaking that she meant Sameen because she was staring right at her. Her hand was still touching Shaw’s ear even though the device was already inserted. For the second time, she was lost in her thoughts of how it felt to whisper into that shell-like auricle. “It’s wireless. You each have a channel, so if you need each other….”

“He’s going to be in my ear?” Shaw shouted. “No, thanks,” she said, taking it out and then looking at Reese. “No offense.”

John didn’t see the need for it, but now it was just one more thing that Sameen was not going along with. “Oh, come on, Shaw,” he said in a tone that Sameen immediately knew was exaggerated. “Let’s give it the old Team BEAR try.” He was daring her to say no and she knew it.

“I could stab you with my stiletto,” she said and then looked down. “Or hit you…with my shoe.”

“Come on, kids, it’ll be fun to try,” Root said and bit her lip when Shaw looked at her disgusted. If Sameen did in fact have feathers, they would be all ruffled right now.

“Now, what channel are we?” Reese asked, already planning on how to torture Shaw.

“You’re five and Sameen is two,” Root said, happy they were willing to try it.

“Fine!” Shaw said, just wanting to end the conversation. She pushed it back in her ear. “I know I’m going to regret this,” she said as she left with Reese.

* * *

Root sat back in her chair, reflecting on her time with Sameen. She needed more time alone with her and that wasn’t going to happen at work. Then, she made a list of things she thought Sameen might like to do. She called her secretary, Jill, into her office. “Would you see what gun shows are around? And find a shooting range location,” she requested. Jill thought it was odd, but told her boss she’d do it straight away.

Bear came in and heard the conversation. “What? No, of course I would never go to one of those, but I really think Sameen would enjoy…you know…touching all of that …..hardware,” she explained. Just the thought of Shaw running her hands over guns sent shock waves through Root’s body. “I can’t help it, Bear,” she said, petting the dog as they sat on the couch in her office. “I would do anything for that woman.”

* * *

 _That woman_ was busy plotting her revenge. “You know, I haven’t paid you back for making me do that Outreach thing, Reese. Now this?” Shaw said, pulling her earpiece out.

“Ah-ah, Shaw,” Reese said, smiling like he knew he won. “You agreed to try this. What could possibly go wrong?” he asked as if he really didn’t know.

They both knew what could go wrong with this. Root could potentially be in Shaw’s ear all day. It was so obvious, even Reese got it.

“I’m not done with you!” Shaw said when they got off on their floor. John walked away smiling and told Shaw there was a Security Meeting in five minutes.

Then Shaw heard a familiar voice. “Taylor, I’ll try, but I don’t think Detective Fusco has any spare time. Yes, I know. I realize the team will miss the championships. Taylor, I’ll see what I can do,” Joss Carter said, hanging up the phone and looking worried.

“Detective Carter,” Shaw said and Joss turned and greeted her.

“Hello, Sameen,” Joss said smiling. “How are you?”

“Well, I’m still working for the circus, so I’m as good as can be expected,” Shaw said and then wondered if anyone could hear her. Her eyes were looking up at the ceiling and Joss wondered if she was okay.

“It was nice to see you,” Joss said, getting ready to walk away.

“Hey, if you need Fusco to do something, I can…you know…help persuade him,” Sameen offered, and then added. “Sorry, I overheard ….”

“Oh, that? No, thanks, Sameen. That was my son on the other end. His coach just up and quit on them, right before they were going to try and make the championships,” Joss explained.

“Fusco is great with kids,” Sameen said, forgetting how little time Lionel had, thanks to her in part.

“Yeah, he is, but he’s got no time; even if he wanted to do it. It’s time consuming and I would never wish a bunch of hormonal raging thirteen year old boys on someone I liked,” Joss laughed. “I would do it, but I’m swamped at work right now.”

“ _Shaw_!” Reese called for her to come into the meeting and then saw Joss. “Detective? What brings you to our neck of the woods?” His tone went from demanding to pleasant in seconds.

“Hi John,” Joss said and Shaw was certain she was blushing upon seeing the man. “Harold, Mr. Finch, asked that we pick up a check ….for the Police gala ….so, yeah,” the usually calm and smooth cop said.  
Shaw was just about to excuse herself; to give the lovebirds a moment alone, when she realized she could do them one better.

“You know, Detective Carter, John here is always telling me the importance of teamwork,” Shaw began.

“Really?” Joss said smiling.

“Oh yeah, he’s a big believer in _teamwork_ ; aren’t you, John?” Shaw said, and Reese didn’t care for the smug look on her face.

“Some people could use a little reminder about team…,” he was trying to say.

“Well, I think anyone who is as good as you are about teamwork,” Shaw said, setting him right up where she wanted him, “…would actually make a great……. _coach_. You know, Reese, because you’re such a big believer in _teamwork_.”

John had no idea what she was talking about, but he was smart enough to know not to trust it. “Detective Carter, do you have any idea what my colleague is talking about?” he asked, suspiciously.

Joss was almost certain she did, and she had to laugh at the sibling rivalry like manner these two had, always trying to outdo the other. She wouldn’t have even gotten involved in the banter, but she looked up into those soft baby blue eyes and heard herself say – “I think Sameen was trying to tell me what a great coach you’d make …because …Taylor’s baseball team …just lost theirs. But…,” Joss was saying and lost her thought.

Sameen saw the way Carter looked at the person who was annoying her the most at the moment. She was more than happy to finish Joss’ thought. “So….Detective Carter here was going to ask Fusco, but come on, Reese; we love the guy, but he’s not exactly athletic material. So, then we thought of you and how you are always talking about the efforts of the many being more than the effort of one, or something like that….,” Shaw said because this was the first time she ever thought she might need something John said in one of his meetings.

“Shaw,” Reese warned.

“I’m sure John has way too many things to do,” Joss said, still staring at the man.

“Well, actually ….,” John said, trying to figure out the best excuse.

“Are you kidding? The guy has no social life and very little interest in anything other than hearing himself talk,” Shaw grinned, because she was on a roll. It was like an ‘ _all you can eat buffet night’_ at poking fun at her boss. “And he loves kids; isn’t that right, Reese? Just the other day, he got me involved in a program with kids because he really believes in paying it forward. Don’t you, John. That’s our Reese – teamwork and paying it forward,” Shaw laid it on thick because she thought John’s silence was the perfect opportunity.

What Sameen didn’t realize was John was listening to every single word she said.

“I couldn’t impose ….,” Joss proffered and Sameen told her –“ Don’t be silly; it’s no imposition at all.”

Shaw looked at the two of them staring at each other. “So, it’s set then?” she asked because no one was talking. “Tell her, Reese. Set the poor woman’s mind at ease. Her kid needs a coach,” Shaw nudged him out of the side of her mouth.

As much as John felt like strangling Shaw, he did consider how doing this would further him along in Joss’ good graces. “Shaw makes a compelling argument,” he lied.

“Oh, John, that would be great, but if it’s too much trouble,” Joss was saying, but he could hear how excited – and relieved – she sounded. “They practice every day, but I’m sure some of the other parents could pitch in.”

“Pitch in, baseball, that’s funny,” Shaw said because she was feeling good and proud.

“I’ll have to move some things around, but that shouldn’t be a problem,” John said and then put his arm around Shaw and said, “Because I work with such a great team, right, Shaw?”

Suddenly Shaw wasn’t feeling as confident.

“Are you busy, Sweetie?” she heard in her ear and jumped.

“Not _now_ , Root,” Sameen said, trying to keep it low. “Reese is trying to get me tied up in something.”

“Not fair, that's my job,” Root said back. “Besides, we know it would be impossible to keep you locked up,” Root cooed and Shaw thought she meant because of her skill at getting out of restraints. “…against your will, anyway,” she added in a lower, breathy tone .

“Root!” Shaw shouted through clenched teeth and John and Carter just looked at her.

Reese knew what was happening, but Joss had no idea. “Is she okay?” she mouthed to John, who shrugged his shoulders.

“For now,” John said, ominously.

“I actually need you to come with me,” Root said, having gotten the info she requested from her secretary.

“Well, I’d love to stay and chat,” Shaw said, accomplishing what she set out to do.

“Thanks so much, Sameen,” Joss offered, aware that John might not feel the same.

Shaw smiled a big grin, saying – “Just trying to pay it forward. Sorry, Reese, duty calls,” she explained and escaped on the elevator, going back up to Root.

* * *

Just then, Martine came out to announce that they had missed the start of the meeting. Joss apologized for keeping him, but he told her it wasn’t a problem. He said he’d talk to her later about the particulars.

“So, you’re coaching a baseball team?” Martine asked.

“It would seem that way,” John answered in his usual cryptic manner.

“Who’s going to give Bear….? “ Martine asked and John answered; “Shaw.”

“But who’s going to take Harold….?” - the woman who knew his entire schedule asked and again, he answered “Shaw.”

“Didn’t you volunteer to clean out ….?” Martine was asking to see if she got this straight.

“Yes, yes, I did,” John smiled and then answered the question he knew Martine was going to ask. “Shaw.”

* * *

Sameen was feeling pretty good that she had repaid John for getting her involved in the Outreach program. She was happy that it meant she met Genrika, but he didn’t need to know that. Her mood quickly changed when Root informed her that they were going shopping.

“Why don’t you go with her?” she asked Bear, who whined and hid. “Chicken.”

“Come on, it will be fun!” Root exclaimed and Shaw was certain she was wrong. The car picked them up and when they got onto the highway headed out to Long Island, Sameen groaned. “Couldn’t you find shoes on Madison Avenue?”

“We’re not going shoe shopping,” Root all but squealed, excited over their destination.

Shaw wore her grouchy expression for almost the entire ride out to Hauppauge, Long Island where the car finally pulled up in front of a huge warehouse type building.  
“What the hell?” Shaw said, getting out and seeing the signs for the gun show. “Come on,” Root hurried her as she went inside. “She never does anything I expect her to do,” Shaw mumbled as she walked in; her adrenaline already pumping.

Root watched as Shaw pushed through the crowds to get to a particular vendor, where she oo’d and aw’d over the latest version of Glocks. Biting her lip, Root watched as the same hands she enjoyed last night, caressed the hard steel of the weapons.

“Do these come in colors?” Root asked, thinking they really should. No one dignified her question with an answer.

Shaw picked up a site scope and was looking through it. “This is wicked clear,” she was saying and although Root wasn’t sure what that meant, she was thrilled to see her planned trip paid off.

She really had expected that it would.

What Root was not expecting, was for Shaw to run into someone at the gun show.

“Cole?” she heard Shaw say when she spotted the man in her line of sight. She slowly put the scope down as the bearded man walked towards them.

“Hello, Sameen,” he said in a very familiar and friendly tone of voice.

Root watched as Shaw’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Almost like she was speechless.

Smiling and speechless.

Root didn’t care for either of those things.


	53. Eating Her Heart Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N I literally borrowed some of POI's writers' best lines here, but gave them a new twist.  
> And twist is the operative word here. Does it work?  
> I promise - Cole serves a purpose.

“Sameen! It is you,” the man said, and Root wondered how he could possibly confuse this gorgeous woman with anyone else.

“What are you doing here?” Sameen said in surprised, but pleasant voice.

“It’s a gun show?” Cole teased and then leaned in to hug her.

Root counted the seconds they stayed embraced. It was too long. She finally cleared her throat when they let go of each other. If Shaw hadn’t caught on to that, she simply had to feel the cold that was radiating off of Root. “Oh, Cole, this is my….this is Samantha Groves. This is…Mike Cole,” Shaw made the introductions and Root smiled, but her eyes didn’t. Shaw caught that.

“ _THE_ Samantha Groves?” Cole said, smiling and shaking Root’s hand.

“And you are?” Root asked because of course he would know who she was.

Shaw was about to say – _Mike Cole_ – again, when Mike volunteered that they worked together in the CIA. “Geez, no one could shoot like Sameen,” he recollected. “And some of that was while she was on duty,” he laughed and so did Shaw.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Looking to up your arsenal?”

“There’s a thought,” Root said, her lips barely parted. “When was the last time you two saw each other?” she asked as if she cared.

“Oh, well….I don’t know,” Shaw stalled and Root thought what a terrible liar she was.

“Come on, Sameen,” Cole prompted her. “Dubai? The Ritz Hotel? Champagne?” Wow, nothing?”

The more he talked, the more Root’s throat closed and the harder it was to stand still. She decided he was nice looking, not incredibly handsome; he had a nice look about his face, but she would never have thought he was Sameen’s type. Then, again, she had a very different image of that type.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, smiling and putting her hand on her neck as she looked away uncomfortably.

“Well, Ms. Groves, I wish I could share the details of that night, but it’s classified,” Cole smiled and Root thought he was trying to be funny. He did have a nice smile; she hated him already.

“So, what are you doing back here?” Shaw asked, changing the subject.

“New assignment. I work for a security firm now. You?” he asked Sameen and both women noted that he hadn’t stopped smiling since he laid eyes on Shaw.

“I uhm….me, too,” Shaw said, nodding her head. “I am ….her bodyguard.”

“Really?” he said amazed that Shaw would be working for a celebrity. “You don’t say. Well, Ms. Groves, you are one lucky woman. This woman is dangerously good, and that’s before you arm her,” he smiled. “Make no mistake, though,” he offered as he thought out loud, “She does not like to be tied down.”

The only thing faster than a speeding bullet right now, was Root’s quips to the man who stood in front of them.  “Now there’s where you and I part company on Ms. Shaw,” Root shot back.

Shaw admonished herself for being so slow in preempting Root.

Cole didn’t get it, but he smiled to be polite anyway. “So wait,” it dawned on him. “Are you on duty? Am I keeping you?” he asked and heard - “Yes and no,” from Shaw as Root answered, “No and yes,” without thinking.

“Can I take you to dinner?” Cole asked Sameen and then looked at Root. “Do you need her I mean?”

“That’s a loaded question,” Root said out of the side of her mouth as she grinned broadly. “Sameen is free to do whatever she wants.” Root said the words, but she didn’t want to.

“Just to catch up; for old time’s sake,” Cole implored Sameen.

“Come with us,” Shaw said to Root, not yet figuring out how she and Cole could talk about classified things in front of anyone. “It’ll be …” and just as Shaw said ‘fun’ unconvincingly; the word that came to Root’s mind was – ‘torture’.

“You guys have fun,” Root said, knowing when to bow out even though she wanted to do this man bodily harm.

“Are you sure?” Sameen asked, caught between wanting to see Cole, but not wanting to leave Root out.

“Yes, thanks,” Root said. “You two enjoy.” Root smiled as best she could, chastising herself for feeling jealous when she didn’t know anything about this man or who he was to Shaw. She started to make her way out when Cole innocently commented – “I’ll get her home safely.”

“I’m in a freaking warehouse of weapons and I can’t shoot him,” Root murmured to herself.

* * *

Shaw watched Root leave, a frown on her face as she tried to decide if she really was okay with this.

“Hey, let’s go to a bar that serves creole food,” Cole suggested and Sameen finally looked back and him and smiled.

“Sure,” she said and tried to stop the nonsense going on inside her. What would Root care if she caught up with an old friend. That was just ridiculous to even think that, Shaw thought.

* * *

Root told her driver to take her back home and felt as if the trip back was in slow motion; a painful slow motion.

Cole and Shaw left in his car as he asked her about her new job. “I don’t see you doing the humdrum work of a bodyguard,” he pointed out.

“It’s …interesting,” Shaw said. “I never thought I’d make it. It’s only been a couple of weeks.” She was talking to Cole, but her mind was still wondering if Root was okay.

“Hey, that’s longer than any relationship you’ve been in,” he noted and she smacked his arm.

Shaw looked at him as he drove. He had been the best partner a person could ever want. He was honest, had a good heart and cared about his work. “What about you? You married yet?” Shaw asked because this guy was a good catch.

“Nah,” he said pulling into the parking spot. “I’ve been waiting for the right girl.” There was no mistaking the look he gave Shaw when he said those words. They hit her dead center, as they were intended. He was out of the car and opening her door before she had time to respond. He remembered the most important thing when talking to Sameen; don’t give her time to answer. 

They went inside, where Cole ordered a couple of margarita’s and appetizers. “If my memory serves me, you like these,” he said of the drink.

“I don’t think I’ve met a drink I don’t like,” Shaw said and realized what little alcohol she had these past two weeks. Then she asked Cole questions to keep him talking, while she toyed with her phone to the point where he noticed it.

“Looks like you’re itching to call someone,” he said and smiled. It would have been foolish for him to think that there weren’t a dozen men in her directory. “Am I keeping you from someone?”

“What? No,” Shaw replied and wondered how she could sound so feeble in her answer.

Cole smiled, but he knew her better than she thought. There was something different about Shaw and he knew it. She had always been such a definite person, and to see her off her game meant something was up.

* * *

Root had asked Reese to bring Bear to the Penthouse. She needed to go home, get some ice cream and talk to him. Bear, not Reese.

“You okay?” John asked in his velvet fog voice. The usually perky, bubbly personality – which could annoy him to no end – was flat.

“Yes, thanks, John,” Root said, because in spite of all the teasing, she did like him. John was a good guy.

“Can I …do anything?” he asked, even though he secretly wished that she didn’t ask him to hold hands with Bear as they prayed or something weird like that.

Root smiled, able to read her former bodyguard’s body language well. “No, I’ll be fine,” she replied.

John looked at Bear who gave every indication that he was worried. “Hey, remember; I’m on channel five,” John said, touching his ear piece that he still wore.

It made Root’s face light up. “Thanks,” she said because it reminded her that Shaw had one , too.

John left, after giving Bear the – ‘ _Well, I tried,_ ’ look. The dog whined his thanks.

Behind closed doors now, with her confidante by her side and ice cream in her hand, she told Bear the whole story of how they ran into Cole. “He acted friendly,” she said between scoops of Ben & Jerry’s Red Velvet flavor; a combination of red velvet cake pieces and cream cheese frosting swirl in the ice cream. “Not exactly lover friendly,” she clarified as she held out the quart container to give Bear his share.

“Should I see if she’s got her earpiece in?” Root asked Bear and even though his mind was on how delicious this ice cream was, his eyebrows moved up in response. “I know, I know. What would I say that wouldn’t sound lame?” Root pondered, but her resistance was wearing thin.

Root wasn’t sure if it was the ice cream, but she had an unsettling feeling in her stomach. Her whole chest hurt and she just felt …..scared. She looked out at the twinkling lights of the Manhattan skyline and wondered how things could look like they always did, when everything was changing?

Bear growled and brought her back to the moment. “I know, I know, I’m wallowing,” the usually grounded person admitted. A long groan from the dog signaled what he thought. “Do what I do best,” Root repeated, as if the dog had actually spoken those words.

A big smile crossed Root’s face when she decided what it was that she did best.

* * *

The third margarita was going down very slowly and Sameen knew Cole was plying her with them for a reason. “What do you want, Cole?” she asked, as they sat at a table now littered with dishes of the several food items they tried. You didn’t have to know Shaw long before you knew the way to her heart.

“I admit, running into you wasn’t an accident,” Cole shared because he was always truthful with Shaw.

“No? How did you know? I mean, I didn’t know until I go there,” Shaw said, confused.

“I’m good at what I do,” Cole replied, leaning back in the chair on the adjoining side of the table.

“Hi, Sweetie,” Root said in Shaw’s ear, suddenly appearing as Shaw’s head buzzed from the drinks.

The waitress came over to clear some of the dishes and Shaw turned to ask; “Root, what are you doing?”

“I was bored and thought I’d keep an ear on you. I mean, he is former CIA and who knows what he’s capable of,” Root said as she scanned her computer screen with Cole’s secret dossier in front of her. Yes, she had just hacked into the CIA personnel files. Shaw smiled at Cole now that the waitress had left, and was about to put her elbow on the table when Root whispered in her ear – “And I couldn’t bear it if anyone hurt you. I mean, besides me.” Shaw’s elbow missed the table and Cole laughed, asking her if she was okay.

“So, you were saying,” Shaw prompted Cole to keep someone talking besides Root.

“You look so great,” Cole said, losing his train of thought.

“Oh, he’s hot,” Root assessed and then added, “Not ‘ _tazed and zip tied in an airplane with twenty-four hours to kill_ ’ hot, but I kinda get it.”

“Root!” Shaw coughed into her hand. “Go on,” she said to Cole, not really hearing what he was saying.

“Well, I could use a woman like you,” Cole said, smiling at Shaw as he remembered how much he loved to stare in those dark eyes.

“Subtle,” Root said sarcastically.

“WHAT …would you need me for?” Shaw said, yelling the first word to drown Root’s voice out.

“I could use a woman with your skill set,” he answered and Root scoffed.

“Which skill set, Cole? I have so many,” Shaw asked because she was feeling no pain.

“Now that? Not so subtle,” Root admitted admiringly.

Shaw couldn’t remember if the damn earpiece had a volume button or an on and off switch. She started to tap her ear hoping to hit it.

“Come on, Sameen. You know how these recruiting jobs work,” Cole was saying as he leaned in. “Hours of looking, watching, turning your plan over in your mind. Then you move closer…,” he said and Root could absolutely hear the change in his tone of voice.

“What exactly is he interviewing you for?” Root asked and added, “As your employer, I might want to remind you of your noncompete clause.” She wasn’t sure if they even had one of those, but she was going to make sure HR put one out immediately.

“…brushing past, making contact,” Cole continued in such a low voice that Root wasn’t sure she heard him right.

Shaw did and now his hand was on her knee.

“….just to see what will happen. And when everything is ready and everything is right; all of that preparation pays off …..in one sudden and intense …crashing moment.”

Shaw was staring into Cole’s eyes; her leg tingling from the soft touch of his hand that remained there. This was a man she knew having spent so much time together. When they left the CIA, he finally confessed that he had always been trying to be a hero ….. for her. Sameen was so stunned that he felt that way, that she told him she needed space and time …and took off. She wasn’t ready for any of that.

“Oh, he’s good,” Root said in her ear. “But a line like that would never work……………………………………….”

Sameen found the button and removed the earpiece. “You want to get out of here?” was the last thing that Root heard Shaw say through the device.

As if her plan just blew up in her face, Root put down her phone and looked out the window. “It didn’t ….work,” she admitted embarrassed to Bear and her voice cracked from the pain that rose in her throat.

Bear couldn’t remember the last time he saw his buddy so upset. He pushed his head under her hand and rubbed alongside her, whimpering.

Root just let her legs go and she slowly fell down towards the floor, kneeling and leaning on Bear. “Oh, Bear,” she said and cried.

Shaw was never hers, she told herself. She should be grateful for the moments they did have. She was probably luckier than most who had shared that kind of time with Sameen. At least she had returned. If anyone could have shared Sameen; it might have been Root – in theory. But hearing someone else making an attempt to seduce her, was too much. Root’s chest exploded in agony as her tears fell on her confidante’s coat.

This was much worse than Bear thought.

He groaned out loud to think he would actually have to bite Shaw.


	54. Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

Here’s what Cole knew about Shaw – he might entice her with a job offer, but anything else would be on her terms. Shaw’s terms right now – were that she needed to be sure. Having Root in her head – was too confusing.

“We do overseas work; highly paid overseas work,” Cole said, driving his point home. One look at Shaw told him she was no longer listening.

_Why couldn’t she listen? Cole was being attentive and caring and offering her a job that suited her better than following a rich genius around at parties, and she couldn’t listen. In fact, Cole’s voice was getting on her last nerve._

“I can’t do this,” she turned and said to him seriously.

“Can’t ….be with me while I try to steal you away?” he asked. “Or won’t?”

Of course she could listen to him try to recruit her. It would be a job where she actually got to shoot her weapon. Let’s go back over that – the woman whose hobby it was to clean her guns was being offered a job where she could actually shoot them. Even Shaw shook her head hard when she put that all together.

“Thanks, Cole,” she said, getting out of his car where he parked at the hotel.

Cole smiled, feeling like the batter who struck out after a really hard swing in baseball. Shaw was always momentary, but this was different. Cole had the distinct feeling that Shaw wasn’t running away; she was running towards something.

Or someone.

“Whoever they are, they’re a lucky sonova bitch,” Cole said to himself when Sameen called out – “Hey, I’ll see you when I see you.”

* * *

Shaw was impulsive when it came to being with someone. If it didn’t feel right, she just didn’t do it. It always felt right with Cole. But something was stopping her – and she tested that by taking out her earpiece and leaving with him. Something prevented her and that rarely happened to the woman who could turn off her feelings and her conscience with the flip of a switch.

Shaw hailed a cab and banged on the back of the seat to tell him which was the better way to go. Arguing with the cabbie was nothing new. Feeling anxious to get back to Manhattan was.

* * *

Root would have been happy to crawl into bed at that late hour, but Bear had other ideas. He insisted they go for a walk. “Oh, can’t you use your bathroom like other incredibly spoiled dogs do?” Root sulked as she got his leash and took him downstairs.  
The night air was wet and hit Root, stinging her face. Or was it just being awake and back in reality that caused it to pain. She walked Bear down the block, the silence of the night deafening, the street lights making everything look foggy. Root looked down the street at the haze. It kind of represented exactly what she was feeling like – lost in a blurry mass so dense, it was stifling.

And then she saw it ……the mist moved out of the way as someone walked through it.

Out of that fog…… came Shaw.

Root’s heart leaped in her chest and she put her hand over her mouth as a cry escaped her lips. There was the woman who made her heart race and then break, all within the same twenty-four hour period – and she was walking towards her.

“Sameen,” Root said softly, her eyes watering up.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, having had the longest talk with herself until the cabby told her to please shut up. Apparently, he understood Farsi.

Root was afraid to speak; afraid if she uttered a word, she’d wake up and the image of Shaw would dissipate.

“Root?” Shaw said in her typical annoyed tone.

“Yes, Sameen?” Root replied, unable to take her eyes off of Shaw.

“Your dog….. is _gnawing_ on my ankle.”

Just because she was back, as Bear had predicted with his incredible sense of smell, didn’t mean he wasn’t going to let Shaw know they were pissed.

“He was …worried,” Root said, still not giving him the command to stop, as he simply closed his jaw around Shaw’s ankle.

“He means it, Root,” Shaw informed her, because she could feel the pressure. The low growl was a good hint, too.

“You scared him,” Root explained in a classic example of psychoanalytical projection; putting her feelings on the dog. It was so blatant, even Shaw saw it.

“Well, _he_ … didn’t need to be scared because _I_ …. was only catching up with an old friend who tried to offer me a job. A job, I’m pretty sure, where the dogs wouldn’t attach themselves to my ankle,” Shaw said, twisting her face as she tried to pull free.

“Grrrrr,” said ….well, you guessed it; Bear.

“He …didn’t know that, and it wasn’t until he was back here that he realized …just how important …you are ….,to us,” Root said, getting lost in the reflection of the streetlight in Shaw’s dark eyes.

Shaw anticipated that Root would be all gooey about this. She didn’t think her ankle would be in a vice while she did it.

“If he doesn’t stop biting me,” Shaw said, still unable to move, “I’m going to bite him back.”

Bear released her immediately and hid behind Root, peering out at the threat. Shaw felt bad that he was so upset. She knelt down in the street and called for him to come to her – which of course – he did, wagging his tail and licking her face. “Okay, yes I’m glad to see you, too,” Shaw answered and Root smiled.

A moment of silence fell between them when Shaw stood back up, holding onto Bear’s leash now.

“You must be…exhausted …after all that……. recruiting,” Root suggested, her head swaying the slightest bit, the grin full bloom on her face, as she played with Shaw.

“I’m not…. tired,” Shaw replied, a sexy smirk on her face.

With those words, Bear pulled Shaw to the building and into the elevator. “You really need to train this brute,” Shaw said, her arm still feeling the effects.

“Yeah,” Root said, looking right at Bear whom she thought was perfectly trained.

Bear sat there feeling very proud of himself. But, he wasn’t done.

Root had already had the long talk with herself about how she had agreed to this no-holds-barred relationship that allowed Shaw to do as she pleased. She believed with all her heart that was how she would keep Sameen, but if tonight was a taste of what that open relationship was like, she was ready to spit it out.

Sameen was a little surprised that the elevator ride was so quiet. She was thankful not to have to explain why she was there. She might then have to admit to Root ---- and to herself ----- that she couldn’t get Root out of her mind, and just being with someone who she might have spent the night caused her terrible confusion and anxiety. All of that seemed to disappear now.

The thought that tossed around in Sameen’s head was - how was it that the woman who could unnerve her the most, made her feel the calmest when she was with her. Should she thank Root for giving her the freedom in this relationship?

The thought that was crossing Root’s mind and taking up residence was how to tell Shaw she was taking back that offer.

As soon as the Penthouse door opened, Bear ran to set up phase two of his payback. He was about to prove elephants weren’t the only ones with long memories.

“Look, this is gonna sound corny,” Shaw said, rolling her eyes and huffing because she couldn’t believe she was going to say this. “When we were with the CIA and they were teaching us about handling torture,” Shaw started and Root wondered if they shouldn’t do that on dating sites, too. “…they told us to think of our …safe place.” Sameen’s voice got small and soft as she thought back to how the exercise never worked for her. “It was …the one thing that could occupy our minds,” she explained as Root listened and watched the full lips that spoke the words. “I never had it …that ….thing. But I’m beginning to think I understand what it could be. Root, I think you….are ….my….safe…,” Shaw said, the words fighting to be spoken.

Root got it – she knew what Sameen was saying. She didn’t need to say another word.

This was good - because Root slammed Sameen’s lips so hard in a kiss, that it pushed her up against the wall, knocking the wind out of her. Root’s mouth covering Shaw’s so fully, no sound escaped.  
The woman who was trained in several different forms of martial arts couldn’t keep up with the hands that were sensually assaulting her. Root was tearing clothes; using her full body …her full tall body….to push Sameen backwards, after pulling her jaggedly away from the wall.

Root wanted to say so many things – explain how she changed her mind and couldn’t bear it if Sameen was with someone else, but all she could do was utter groans and small cries as she disposed of anything in her way of devouring Shaw’s flesh.

Sameen never felt so wanted in all her life. Responding in kind, she wrestled with Root until another whole set of dishes went crashing from the table onto the floor. The noise of the plates crashing was bested by the guttural cries of two lovers cresting together.

* * *

Sunshine crept through the window the next morning and Root’s head popped up, afraid that it had all been a dream. She used to have dreams like that – the ones that torture your soul by making everything seem so real – and then waking you up as reality shredded your hope into flimsy ribbons.

The woman of her dreams was still there; lying with her naked back exposed and sleeping soundly. Root’s eyes scanned the broken skin, scarred in a former life. She gently kissed each mark and renewed her promise that someone would pay for each one.

Later on, both women dressed and got ready for work. Root found Sameen sitting on the counter top in the kitchen, her mouth full of a delicious scoop of the Red Velvet ice cream. Bear sat at her feet.

“Now, this is a neat trick you taught him,” Shaw complimented the dog who refused to make eye contact with his owner.

“What trick is that, sweetie?” Root said, taking a closer look at the container.

“Bear actually got the freezer opened and brought this to me,” Shaw said, amazed by the dog’s dexterity.

“Sameen,” Root said slowly, gently taking the container from her hand and noticing how the rim of the cup was worn down from the dog’s tongue thrashing inside it to get his fair share out, last night.

“Wha? Itz goud,” Shaw said, her mouth filled with the cold dessert.

Root leaned in and kissed Shaw gently. “I am going to have to keep an eye on where you put that mouth of yours,” Root said, hoping Sameen didn’t catch anything.

“Bear,” Root said and he glanced up to admit his guilt. “Niet grappig,” she scolded him, letting him know that wasn’t funny.

In Bear’s book, Shaw made Root cry. He was far from settling the score.

“What? What did you say to him? Shaw demanded to know; taking the spoon out of her mouth and looking at it. “Niet is not, right. You just told him something was _not_ ….not what? What did he do?” Shaw asked, running her tongue around her mouth to see if she tasted anything weird.

She turned and looked at the dog; her two fingers pointing to her own eyes and then down at him. “I’m watching you,” she warned.

The maid hurried after Root and expressed concerned that the dishes were all broken ….again.

“You didn’t feel it?” Root asked the woman in all seriousness.

“No, Ms. Groves. Feel what?” the worried woman asked.

Shaw knew the poor woman was being set up and tried like hell to push Root out the door to stop her from saying - “The earth moved last night. Must have been the aftershock.”

Shaw groaned at the bad inside joke as the woman tilted her head, unable to recall anything in the news.

* * *

The couple made their way to work and rode up in the elevator together. Shaw hesitated a minute before making sure Root was on the same page as she was. “So, this is ….good, right? But let’s not …uhm….make it public, okay?”  
Root pouted her disappointment because she was ready to shout if from the rooftops. “Sure,” she said, but made sure Shaw knew she wasn’t happy about it.

Shaw swore Root slapped her butt as she exited the elevator.

“Ms. Shaw!” Janine called just as Sameen turned to tell Root – ‘that’s exactly what I’m talking about’, but the elevator door was closed. “You have a visitor,” Janine said in a sing song voice that Shaw begged her not to use when she was armed.

“Please, no humans before coffee or breakfast. I need breakfast,” Shaw said, shuddering to think the last thing she ate had dog germs all over it.

Janine’s smile was way too cheery for so early in the morning as she asked – “Guess who is here to see you?”

Before Shaw could retort with something Janine worried would upset the guest, she pulled the young girl out of her cubicle to show her.

Gen stood there, backpack on and holding something in her hand. “I owed you this,” she said and stuck out her hand holding the candy bar.

“Ah, it’s too early for babysitting,” Shaw groaned.

Janine covered Genrika’s ears – as if that would actually help. “It’s okay, I understand Shaw,” the young girl explained, calling Sameen by her last name.

“Oh, so we’re on a last name basis now? Look, kid, it’s too early …,” Shaw grumbled.

“It’s Gen,” the youth corrected her. “Well, anyway, it’s yours,” she said, walking past Sameen and handing her the bar to take.

Janine watched as the girl who had been so excited waiting for Shaw, now hung her head down as she headed to the elevator. “Ms. Shaw!” Janine said, through gritted teeth. Her eyebrow jerking towards the girl.

“Okay, Jiminy Cricket,” Shaw huffed and called after Genrika.

“You want to get breakfast?” Shaw asked and if anyone picked up on the tone, they’d know it was the last thing Sameen wanted them to say yes to.

But Genrika was getting very good at understanding what made Shaw tick.

And it was going to unnerve Sameen to no end.


	55. Pancakes, With a Side of Aggravation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I changed some lines back in Chapter 50 just to make it clear that Genrika's cousin, Vadim, was not offering her to Shaw, but rather her skills.  
> Thank you to the reader who pointed this out to me.

Shaw and Gen took the elevator to the employee dining room, where Shaw’s eyes fell lovingly on the Parks Deli display where she would order lunch later. But for now, Shaw sat where the waiters bring your meal to you. Gen had looked at the menu for several minutes, not fazed by Shaw’s huffing and puffing as her recommendations were rejected.

“You’re really fussy for a kid,” Shaw said, putting her sunglasses up over her tired, yet happy, eyes.

“Do you take any drugs?” Gen started her round of questions with. Her cousin wore glasses when he went out. She knew the answer.

“What? No! Listen, fill me in on your cousin,” Shaw said, drowning the weird taste in her mouth with coffee.

“Vadim is thinking about going into rehab that the nice social worker told him about,” Genrika reported.

Shaw pulled her glasses down on her nose and leaned into the table. “ _Thinking_? Did someone give him the impression he had a choice?” She pushed her glasses back up and, in spite of the darkness, shot an email off to Fusco to get that social worker back there!

Gen knew immediately what Shaw was doing. “Is Detective Fusco your friend? He said he was, but he said you were a _real pain in the ass_ ,” Gen repeated because Lionel wasn’t happy Shaw had given him yet another assignment.

“He did, did he?” Shaw asked, filing that for later.

“I think…..,” Gen said, sitting back and crossing her arms, “…..that he likes you very much. I think he’s a good friend,” she asserted. Gen had made it a habit of studying adults. It was a requirement if you were to survive in this world with them.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, wondering where the off switch was on this kid.

“You know if Vadim goes in, I get put in a foster home,” Gen pointed out to the woman who was responsible for that.

Shaw got it immediately and she felt something twist inside her at the thought. “Yeah, look kid; Gen, I am sorry about that, but you can’t keep living with that drug addict.”

“Vadim; his name is Vadim,” Gen said defensively. Shaw looked at how her face seemed to fade under those long curls, yet her blue eyes blazed.

“You are one tough cookie,” Shaw shook her head and sighed when they finally brought the food over. An empty bowl and a box of Raisin Bran cereal were put down in front of Gen; three plates of food were placed around Shaw.

“You sure do eat a lot,” Gen noted.

“You sure do talk a lot,” Shaw retorted – like an eleven year old.

“Why ….are you like this?” the girl asked with great interest as she slowly opened the small box of cereal and poured into the bowl, slowly adding the milk.

Shaw just wanted to enjoy her bacon, sausage, pancakes, and scrambled eggs with toast and juice and coffee. She knew that if she didn’t answer the youth, she wouldn’t get to do that. She sighed and put her fork down. “You know when something scares you or makes you happy?”

“Yeah,” Gen answered and she could have listed ten things if Shaw asked her to.

“I don’t do them. I don’t do scared, or sad, or happy, or lonely. I do angry…okay,” Shaw reflected, her head bobbing back and forth.

“Well, I know that,” Gen said, not believing the rest of it. “What happened? Were you always like this?”

Shaw took her glasses off and stared out the window into the morning sun. “I’ve been like this for as long as I can remember,” she volunteered. “I was ...a little younger than you when I figured out I was different. Not a big deal, really.”

Gen stared at Shaw’s eyes – and could see them change as she reflected back to her childhood. She recognized the anguish. It’s easy when you know what’s behind that look, like Gen did.

“Hello, Gen,” Root said, approaching the table. “Harold told me you were here.”

“How did Harold know?” the naturally curious girl asked.

“Security cameras, is my guess,” Root said, sitting down. She reached over and removed the coffee cup from Shaw’s hand and took a sip, holding onto it. Gen watched as Shaw frowned and grabbed the cup back; Root hardly noticing. “I’ve been thinking, Gen.I might have a possible solution to our problem.”

Gen liked that Root called it ‘ _our_ ’ problem, even though she didn’t know what it was.

Shaw stared at Root. ‘ _Oh no_!’, she thought. “Root, have you given thought to what you’re about to say?” She worried Root wanted to adopt her fellow genius.

“I always do, Sameen,” Root said and gazed at Shaw for a minute.

“You make a nice couple,” Gen said, taking a mouthful of her cereal.

“What? Why would you ….why would she say that?” Shaw asked, feeling like there were animated hearts coming out of Root’s head or something.

“I know all the signs,” Gen said, authoritatively.

“Okay, just…stop. Eat something. Make her stop, Root,” Shaw stammered.

“Shaw thinks she doesn’t have all the feelings we do,” Gen said across the table to Root as if Shaw weren’t even there.

Root made her adorable sad face at Sameen. “That’s not true!” she pouted.

“You know what I think?” Gen said sympathetically. She had given a great deal of thought to Sameen since they last met.

“No, tell me,” Root said with great enthusiasm as Shaw moaned and tried to leave. Root’s hand shot out and held Shaw in place by her wrist.

“I think….,” Gen said finishing the last spoonful of her breakfast and pushing the bowl away. “….she’s got them all, just like us,” and Root smiled and looked at Shaw who rolled her eyes and threw herself back in the chair.

“Yes,” Genrika persistent, because she could tell that Root was really interested in what she had to say. “It’s just like ….,” she continued even though Shaw gave her a dead stare to stop. “….the volume is turned all the way down.”

Root was not expecting Gen’s description to be _so_ deep …. _so_ thoughtful ….. _so_ right.

“Okay, kid,” Shaw said, but no one was paying her any attention.

“It’s like an old tape. The voices are there, you just have to listen,” she whispered to Root now, because she could see Shaw was uncomfortable. “I have her figured out,” the genius said, sitting back and smiling.

Shaw’s head snapped to look at Root – her expression clearing reading – DO SOMETHING.

“What, Sameen?” Root asked innocently. “I happen to agree.”

Gen’s face lit up to think how Root valued her opinion on something. “I have to get to school,” Gen announced, getting up from her seat. “I can come back later if you want to tell me about your ideas.”

“Yes, that would be great,” Root said, eagerly.

“Thanks for breakfast, Shaw,” Gen said, waving goodbye as she left, a skip in her step.

* * *

“Root!” Shaw said, leaning in to talk to her. “You can’t do this. You have to be careful,” she warned.

“Careful about what, Sweetie?” she inquired as she took another sip of coffee from the cup Shaw put down.

“Stop,” Sameen said, taking back her cup, but unable to express why. “She’s a kid. A vulnerable, alone in the world ….very talkative …..kinda annoying….bright kid. If you pay her attention, she’ll keep coming back.”

“So?” Root asked, really interested in what Sameen was thinking because she was certain there was some projection going on here.

“We have to do what’s best for her. And feeding her …..will….she’ll want to …..eat here. She has to learn to hunt on her own,” Shaw said, hearing how nonsensical that sounded.

“Not one of your better analogies, but I get it,” Root said, smiling at Shaw because she knew what was happening. “I think I understand.”

The waiter approached the table to remove a plate that still had some food on it. A quick scowl from Shaw made him retreat.

“Well, I have a meeting about something that apparently is getting out of hand,” Root said in a cheery tone.

“Is it about that ankle biting dog of yours?” Shaw asked, because the woman knew how to hold a grudge.

“Actually,” …Root said, looking at her the calendar on her IPhone and then showing Shaw the screen…. ”He called it.”

On the screen were a series of tiny paw prints covering the next hour. Shaw looked at it and then at Root. “Bear….called a meeting?” she asked and Root shrugged her shoulders. “You know that’s insane, right?” she asked.

“Oh, I better go. He’s a stickler for being on time,” Root said, smiling down at Shaw as she stood up and left.

“The only explanation is that I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole and this is all a simulation,” Shaw said out loud and then realized she was talking to herself. She groaned, shoved her sunglasses back on and kept eating.

* * *

Root returned to her office where she poured herself some tea and sat on the couch. “Now first, let’s talk about this morning,” she said to the only other attendee. “That was very naughty what you did to Sameen,” she reprimanded, but the dog knew from her tone she didn’t mean it. She had the biggest smile on her face when she thought of Shaw losing it because she suspected him. “Only I’m allowed to be naughty with her,” Root gushed and then caught the expression on Bear’s face. “You were trying to get back at her, weren’t you?” Root suggested, but again she sounded more grateful than annoyed.

Bear let out a long groan and wail. It was the combination of those two sounds that told Root he was serious about something.

“I’m not being too easy on her,” Root said defensively and the dog’s head actually looked away – because dogs can’t do a good eye roll. “Oh my God, you do think I’m being too easy,” Root said, frowning and contemplating that accusation. “It’s just that I really, really like her,” she tried to explain, but the dog turned away as if to indicate that was no excuse. “I really couldn’t stand to see her with that…. _friend_ ,” Root said and Bear growled because he remembered how upset his owner was.

“Bear, sometimes I think Shaw and I are attached by a tiny thread and if I pull too hard, it will break,” Root lamented. The dog shook his head and pushed at Root’s hand. “The last time I listened to John….,” Root stated and the dog started to bark loudly until Root apologized for comparing his advice to John’s. “Okay, okay,” Root said, petting him to calm him down. “So, you think I’m making it too easy on her to come and go as she pleases,” Root surmised from the dog’s incessant whimpers. He growled deeply and stared right at her.

Root thought about that and questioned if the lopsided relationship was really what she wanted. “And if I play hard to get and she doesn’t play? I lose her, Bear. Then what?” the woman who knew there were no guarantees asked.

Bear put his head down, grabbed a squeaky toy with his mouth and shook it vigorously. Root had to laugh. “No, you can’t do that to her, even though I appreciate the gesture. Besides, I really think she would bite you back,” Root added and the dog put his head in Root’s lap, his eyes begging her to protect him. “I won’t let her,” she assured him. “Let me think about this, okay?” Root asked permission and Bear let out a long sigh.

Just then, Jill announced that Root’s friend, the model, was there to see her. The woman had wanted to talk to Root since the incident at the party. Root thanked her confidante and then got up to greet the very tall, blonde woman who sashayed into the room.

“Oh Darlink, I have been wanting to see you,” she said in a thick Eastern European accent that made Root smile. “You were so right the other night. The police came crashing through the doors just as I made it down the elevator with Victor. You remember Victor, don’t you?” the friend said all in one breath and sat down in a chair by Root’s large desk. “Do you let that dog roam this place?” she asked, pulling her expensive purse closer to her on her lap.

“Yes, I do,” Root said.

“Oh, I must ask you, Samantha,” Paulina segued. “Who was that little short dark woman who attacked me? She was very rude.”

“Yes,” Root said, getting dreamy eyed thinking about how Shaw did that.

“In my country, we punish people like that,” Paulina lied, but just for effect.

“Your _country_ is Ocean County, Paulina,” Root laughed because the woman moved here as a child. .

“Yes, but they like an accent in my business,” the woman said, faux accent intact. “Still, the little woman knocked the wind out of me. It hurt,” the model complained. She had been speaking with the accent for so many years now, she rarely lost it.

“Well, I apologize for her,” Root offered and Bear groaned so loudly that Paulina asked if he was okay.

Root got it immediately. “He’s very judgmental,” she answered.

“Come to dinner tonight!” the model squealed. “Victor is throwing a little dinner party and it will just be some old friends laughing and drinking into the wee hours.”

“Oh, no…I …..,” Root said, thinking that she would rather be home….waiting for Shaw…..to show up…….maybe.

Bear shot up from his comfortable spot and ran over the Root, who was still standing behind her desk. He started to nudge her as if pushing her somewhere.

“Even hairy dog wants you to come,” Paulina noted correctly.

Root looked down at Bear, who seemed to plead with her. “O…kay,” Root said, hesitantly. “I’ll go?” she asked more than answered.

Bear barked his affirmation loudly.

Paulina gave Root the address and told her not to be late. Then, the gorgeous model took her fake accent and left.

* * *

The afternoon seemed like a whirlwind of activities for Root. She had a lot of things to take care of which kept her too busy to second guess her decision.  Gen returned after school as promised. Root asked her if she would like to go to dinner with some very nice people.

“Will Shaw be there?” was Gen’s first question.

“Well, I didn’t mention it to her,” Root realized.

“Will you be there?” Gen asked next.

“Well, no, I have plans actually,” Root said, biting her lip because she was wavering.

“Oh,” Gen said, looking very disappointed.

“There’s Sameen, let’s ask her now,” Root said and Gen’s face lit up.

Root and Genrika walked over to where Shaw was trying to make out what was on her company calendar. “What the hell does this mean?” she asked, standing up in her cubicle like someone could decipher it for her.

“Sameen, would you like to go to dinner…..,” Root was asking as Shaw bellowed for anyone to tell her what this stupid code meant.

“Yeah, sure,” Shaw said because she assumed that Root was asking her to go with her.

“Yes!” Gen let out in a whisper because this changed everything. Now, she definitely wanted to go.

“A very special couple is taking Gen out and she wants you to go,” Root explained.

“Okay, that’s fine,” Shaw accepted. “What does “BB” mean? Does anyone know if that’s a stupid code for something?” she continued to yell.

Root knew what was going on – Shaw wasn’t listening and was saying yes because she was erroneously assuming Root was going to be there. “Okay, then, we’re all set,” Root said, forcing a smile over the discomfort of her decision.

She walked away and went in the elevator to go upstairs with Gen. “You’re not happy about this,” the young protégé assessed.

Root didn’t say no. “It’s complicated,” she shared.

“Grownups always make it that way,” Gen said and reached out to hold Root’s hand.

* * *

Seconds later, they walked into Harold’s office where Gen met two of her three dates for dinner.

“Hello, Gen. My name is Grace Hendricks; I’m Mr. Finch’s fiancée,” said the woman whom Root considered to be as close to an angel as you could get.

Gen figured out that Root thought this very nice couple would make great foster parents and this was her interview. She had it all wrong. Root took Gen aside as Harold and Grace looked up restaurants. “Now Gen, Harry and Grace are the sweetest people, but you get the final say in all of this, okay?”

“Okay,” Gen said, skeptically. This was a lot for a kid to take in. “And Shaw’s going to be there?” she asked again.

“Yes, Sameen will be there,” Root confirmed.

“Miss Shaw? Is coming to dinner?” Harold shouted over with great concern.

“Yes, Harry,” Root said.

“Oh, dear. Let’s look up steak houses,” he said to Grace.

“The way I see it,” said the girl who was much older than her eleven years, “…..I think something is going to happen tonight.”

“Well, we don’t know now, so just take it slowly,” Root cautioned her friend.

“I wasn’t talking about me,” Gen said, looking up at Root with soulful eyes. She squeezed Root’s hand before she walked over to Harold to help him find a restaurant that Shaw would like.

“Big steaks,” she said as they perused the menu.

* * *

John came out of his office and heads turned. The man, whose entire wardrobe consisted of white shirts and suits, was in a long sleeved t-shirt with the team name “Warriors” across it.

“Mr. Reese?” Janine said as if she couldn’t recognize him.

“Does anyone know what this stupid message means?” Shaw pleaded because it was on her calendar.

“I do, Shaw,” John said, standing there grinning. “Since you got me involved in baseball, someone is going to have to help cover the jobs I had slated for after work. Namely, you,” he explained. “It stands for bubble bath.”

“And five o’clock is when you take a bubble bath?” Shaw asked sardonically.

“Not me,” John grinned as Bear came rushing down the aisle at John. “Sorry, buddy. Shaw’s covering bath time tonight.”

“The hell I am, Reese,” Shaw shouted as John waved victoriously from the elevator.

“Wash behind his ears, Shaw,” John shouted.

“AAARRRGGGH!” Shaw shouted. “I am so telling Root about this at dinner,” Sameen swore.

Of course, Root wouldn’t be there to tell.


	56. All Steak, No Sizzle

Shaw knew payback when it hit her in the face and right now it was hitting her there, and every other part of her body, as she placed the large dog in the tub in the room designed just for this. “And why aren’t you doing this?” she asked the attendant who brought in softer towels than Shaw had at home.

“He has a bad case of stranger-danger,” the attendant explained.

“HE’S - A - DOG!” Sameen yelled and that just reminded Bear that he was still upset with her.

The dog usually sat so still in the bath; John still looked pressed when he emerged. Now, Bear moved around so much, that Shaw was soaked. Even she was surprised that he was so animated.“What is up with you today?” she asked and then pursed her lips because she was talking to him directly.

When she bent over to get the specially made doggie shampoo, she was almost certain he nipped her. He seemed to push at her hand and even put his mouth on her arm; not hard, but not his usual friendly self. “Hey, I’m okay with Reese doing this if this is a guy bonding thing ….,” she said, looking at him. “AND I’M TALKING TO HIM AGAIN,” she yelled, pushing the stray stands of hair out of her face with a soapy hand.

She finished up and used the fluffy towels on him, as instructed. Just as she was about to put his collar back on, he ran off – Shaw in hot pursuit. She looked like hell – still beautiful, but she was wet from head to toe and her clothes were disheveled. Bear ran right into Root’s office and sat next to her as she finished up.

“There you are,” Root said, petting him and realizing he was ….damp. “Was John too rough…?” she was asking when Sameen appeared with a towel. “Sameen?”

“Long story,” Shaw replied and flopped down on the couch, unaware of her her appearance.

Root looked at Bear – who surprisingly enough, had a rather smug look on his face. “Ohhh,” she said, figuring out what happened. “Bear,” she said, but there wasn’t a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Yeah, he’s acting all kinds of weird,” Sameen admitted. “Look at me!’ she said, seeing the state of her clothes.

“Oh, I’m looking,” Root said slowly, the sight of Shaw always pleasing to her eyes.

“Let me get changed and I’ll meet you …where is dinner?” Shaw asked, standing up and using the towel on herself now.

“Well, Sweetie, your dinner is at Keens Steakhouse on 36th,” Root answered, walking over to Shaw.

“Oh that’s great! That joint serves a sirloin that’s better than sex,” Shaw shared.

“Well, yummy as that sounds…,” Root said seductively, leaning into Shaw just a little, “I won’t be joining you. You’re needed there. Mine is downtown in the village,” she added, making a sad, pouty face that didn’t stay on too long.

“Mine? What do you mean…why are we in two different places?” Shaw questioned and then realized how dressed up Root was. She looked really nice.

“Because you’re going to dinner with Gen and Harold and Grace,” Root answered and Bear poked his head out to watch when Shaw figured this all out.

“How did I…?” Shaw said, twisting around to see where the answer key was. “Why would I go …shouldn't I go with you?” Now, Sameen was asking as Root’s bodyguard, but that wasn’t the real reason. She was having trouble getting her head around the fact that she would be with three other people …and none of them were Root.

“Oh, I’m going out with friends, so I doubt I will be in any danger,” Root said, addressing the bodyguard inquiry first. “Although Paulina gets a little crazy when she drinks,” she added and Bear watched.

The name didn’t mean anything to Shaw …yet.

“So, why am I going with Harold?” she asked like the person who drew the short straw.

“Well, I spoke with him. He and Grace are on the verge of tying the knot. I thought they might consider becoming Gen’s foster parents,” Root said, smiling at what a nice picture that was in her mind’s eye.

“Harold? With a kid?” Shaw asked.

“We all have to make… _adjustments_ …..when we want to be with someone,” Root said, the words just coming to her.

Bear liked that sentiment and woofed his compliment.

“So, the cousin goes to rehab, the kid stays with Harold and Grace? Problem solved. Why do I have to go?” Shaw said, getting back to what she thought was the bigger issue.

“Because Gen wants a familiar face with her, and you said yes,” Root explained, smiling at Shaw.

“Yeah, but I thought you were asking me to dinner. I thought I was going with you,” Shaw said and Root immediately heard how pitiful it sounded.

Root looking into those dark eyes that seemed to cloud over with confusion. It was enough to melt her heart and warm up other parts. The low growling she heard snapped her out of that.

“What is up with him?” Shaw asked, hearing it this time.

“He’s being ….a little bossy,” Root said, shooting him a look. “Well, I will…..see you when I see you.”

Shaw’s day had been going from bad to worse, but she didn’t think anything would out do the dog bath. Until she realized she was going to dinner with Harold. Without Root. “Well, look…..I will only be like what, an hour? How long does it take to eat a steak?” Shaw said, thinking she would leave right after that.

“Well, I was hoping you would go with Gen to pick up a few things, if she decides she wants to stay at Harold’s,” Root said because she knew it would be hard for Harold to see that apartment and not want to quarantine himself. “If you could, I mean,” she added, letting Shaw know she wasn’t making it her job.

“Oh,” Shaw said, thinking that made sense. “Sure.”

“Okay, then, I guess that’s everything,” Root smiled, looking around and grabbing her bag and coat. “Have a good time, Sameen,” she said, sincerely; her smile warm.

Shaw’s head bobbed back and forth and she pursed her lips, not sure what it was she was feeling. The only thing she knew was that it wasn’t good. She wanted to go with Root or wanted Root to go with her, but she wasn’t sure how to make that happen. She felt a little foolish for not thinking that Root had a social life that she would still want. “Why does that name sound familiar to me?” Shaw asked when she reflected back to the conversation. “Paul-in-a,” she repeated.

Bear fetched the _New York Post_ and dragged it to Shaw. “Who gets newspapers anymore?” Shaw asked as she looked down at the paper. She pulled back horrified for a moment ...”You don’t….no, of course not,” she rolled her eyes because the dog had his own bathroom.

He barked at her loudly because without opposable thumbs, he couldn’t open the paper to the society section. Shaw shook her head, not wanting to believe she actually thought she understood what he wanted her to do.

“You know, when they put me away and I tell them the dog made me do it, they will throw away the key, right? You know that. It’s on your head,” she whispered as she took the paper and flipped through the pages. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to find….,” she said, until she saw the picture of the statuesque blonde in the society news. “Oh,” Shaw said and looked directly at the watchful canine. “So, that’s who Paulina is.” She recognized her as the woman who had kissed Root at the party. She folded the paper closed and looked around.

“Well, this sucks,” Shaw said, uncertain of what she should do now. “Okay, so …we’re having dinner…apart. There’s nothing wrong with that. She has a life; I have a …something…. like a life. It’s all good,” Shaw said, trying to convince Bear ….and herself.

Bear whined and put his head down. Shaw looked at him, uncertain of what that meant, but knew it wasn’t good. “I’ll just ….you know,” she said, pushing her hands out as if stuffing things in containers – which she was trying to do with her feelings. She was almost at the door when it occurred to her whose fault this was.

“You know who is to blame, right?” she came back into the office and said to the dog. “That…that….stupid therapist. She tried to convince me to unleash these feelings. Did that do any good? No! I just…have to…do what I do, “ Shaw ranted. “Put them all back,” she decided, nodding her head as if it were that easy.

Even Bear knew she didn’t have a chance in hell of doing that.

* * *

Shaw left the office …and Bear…feeling better that she had come to the only sane conclusion there was. She was going to play whack-a-mole if any of her feelings should rear their ugly heads.  
She went home, showered – because people on the train wouldn’t sit near her – and got ready for dinner. She arrived on time at the steakhouse and met up with Harold and Grace. She could see why Root thought they’d make good parents. Grace was appropriately named, her voice soft and her face angelic. She was very friendly to Sameen and asked her how she was settling in at BEAR.

“Where’s the kid?” Shaw asked and Harold corrected her and shared that he thought it was important to refer to Gen by her first name. “Oh, this is gonna suck so bad,” Shaw uttered, but because her mouth was full of bread, no one heard her.

“She told Harold she wanted to go home to get something first,” Grace explained and then said she was amazed at how mature the girl was for her age.

“Life sucking will do that to you,” Shaw said in her own vernacular.

Within minutes, the preteen arrived and the Maitre d’ escorted her over to the large semi-circle booth. She made it a point to sit on the same side as Shaw. “I wanted to bring you this,” she said and handed Shaw a box. “Take it,”

“Oh, that is so sweet,” Grace said as Shaw opened the box with the Order of Lenin medal in it.

“It was my Grandfather’s. He was in the KGB. Don’t sell it,” Gen said in one long breath.

“I wasn’t….,” Shaw tried to defend herself because that’s exactly what she was thinking they should do.

The dinner proceeded as planned, with Grace and Harold explaining what they would like to do and what life would be like for Gen, if she agreed. She could still go to the same school, but she would live with Harold and Grace in their West Side apartment – a long distance from where she lived now.

Grace noticed that the young girl seemed quite interested, but her eyes kept looking at Shaw as the petite woman devoured the steak that hardly fit on the plate. “Can Root and Shaw still be my mentors?” Gen asked Harold and Shaw choked trying to explain she didn’t think that was necessary anymore.

“Then, no thank you,” Gen said of Harold and Grace’s offer as she sat back in the seat and folded her hands, eyes cast downward.

“Oh, dear,” Harold said and looked at Grace – who, in turn, turned her light blue angelic eyes on Shaw – causing her guilt to become palpable.

“No, I mean….sure, we can still be your mentors,” Shaw recanted and Gen’s face lit up instantly.

“Then, I accept your offer, Mr. Finch, Ms. Hendricks,” Gen said politely and extended her hand to Harold.

“Shake it, Harold, or she won’t put it away,” Shaw warned him.

The dinner was over, dessert was eaten and things couldn’t have gone more smoothly. Gen even gave Harold some insight in to how he should decide on the tip. “The food was very good because Shaw would have complained if it wasn’t; the waiter was attentive and seemed to go above and beyond; and the ambiance was perfect,” she listed as her reasons for a good tip.

Harold just stared at the well-spoken youth. “I know,” Shaw said, “It’s like they took an old person and stuffed it into a little body.”

The highlight of the evening for Grace was when Gen took her hand as they were leaving. “I have Shaw all figured out, you know,” she said as if sharing a secret you would only tell your best friends.

“We’ve been approved by the Department of Social Services to have Gen stay with us,” Harold explained. “We thought she’d spend the night, to really get a sense of what it would be like.”

* * *

Shaw told Harold that she had promised Root she’d go with Gen to her apartment, so they all got into Harold’s car and went downtown. “I need my books, my pens, something to sleep in,” the girl said, once they arrived, as she ran around collecting the things she needed.

Vadim had already been visited by the social worker, Dee, again. He was given twenty-four hours to get his affairs in order and she would be back to take him to the rehab center. He wasn’t exactly sober, but he wasn’t flying. “You’ll take care of her?” he asked Shaw, who had not spoken a word to him, but stared him down.

“Let’s go,” Shaw said, picking up the book laden backpack that was hard to lift.

She watched Gen turn back and then go over to her cousin. She put her arms around him and hugged him. “This is your one chance, Vadim,” the youth said. “Don’t screw it up.”  
With that, she released him and walked out of the apartment with Shaw.

Shaw put the backpack in the car and said good night to her dinner companions. Gen got back out of the car and slowly approached Shaw. As Grace nudged Harold to watch, the young girl said to Shaw –

“Now, I’m going to hug you,” she explained, the way humans cautiously approach aliens in the movies. Gen reached out, put her arms around a very stiff Shaw, and squeezed tightly.

Shaw stood there at attention, unsure of what to do. Her head dipped forward as if acknowledging it was okay. Gen released her and was about to return to the car when Shaw suddenly pulled her back and hugged her. “You’re hurting me,” the girl said, but was still smiling. Shaw released her quickly; patted Gen on the shoulders and jerked her head that it was okay for her to go.

“Shaw?” the girl called before getting in the back seat with Grace.

“Yeah, kid?” Shaw said, waiting to be admonished for forgetting to use her first name.

“This might be your one chance,” the wise girl said, and Shaw thought she was speaking about herself. “Don’t screw it up.”

The words flew through the air at Shaw, as the car pulled away.

“What the hell…?” Shaw mumbled, left standing there in the street, watching as the curly haired girl got smaller and smaller in the back window of the car. She shook her head, convinced she misheard the child.

* * *

It was the first time that Sameen gave thought to how happy Gen might be feeling right now, to be surrounded by such nice people. That whole situation turned out just right, she thought. Shaw liked when life went right for good people. She looked around and realized she wanted to tell Root about how the night turned out. She texted her, expecting Root would send a quick response. When none arrived, she decided to go up to the Penthouse and tell her all about dinner in person.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Shaw, but Ms. Groves had not yet returned, “ the familiar doorman informed Shaw.

“Oh,” Shaw said and looked at her watch. How long could dinner possible last for someone who didn’t care what they ate?

“Do you want to wait upstairs?” the doorman asked because Sameen was on the approved list to do so.

Sameen texted Root again, but could see her texts weren’t getting through. “I guess,” she said, going into the elevator to go upstairs.

She walked into the large apartment that seemed oddly empty to her. She ran her finger along the perfectly set table and remembered the sound of plates crashing as they made love the previous nights. Shaw didn’t feel comfortable being there without Root and was going to leave when Bear came out and greeted her. He nudged her into the kitchen, where she decided it wouldn’t hurt to have a snack. “If I find out you licked this, I’m going to ….to….,” she threatened, but didn’t finish.

Then, Bear watched Shaw pace the kitchen, then the living room, sitting on the couch, but then getting up and pacing again. “Does she stay out like this? I mean is this normal? she asked the dog, who was being surprisingly tight lipped tonight. The more Shaw thought about waiting and the uncertainty of when Root would return, the more frustrated she got.

“You know,” Shaw said, directly to Bear, “Everything turned out really good tonight and I wanted to come back here and tell Root. How come I have to wear an earpiece when we’re in the same car, but she doesn’t have to …you know…let me know….,” Shaw wondered out loud. “Suppose something happens?” the practical part of Sameen proposed. “Could she just answer one text?” she asked, looking down at her phone.

Then the former CIA agent remembered how to track a phone via the GPS chip inside. “Thinks she’s the only one who can crack technology, does she,” Shaw scoffed, getting on the computer and putting in the coordinates. A few more clicks told Shaw that Root was at a townhouse in Chelsea. She called Fusco to ask him to look up who the tenants were at that location.

“I was just sitting here thinking how I wish someone would take my mind off all the paperwork I have to do; and you called, Shaw,” he said, putting in the info to the database. “Victor Kane,” he said back and Shaw thanked him.

“So, I’ll just go …you know…and see if she needs …me,” Shaw said to the pointy eared listener as she left.

* * *

That night, Gen felt butterflies in her stomach as she lay down in the beautifully made up bed in Harold and Grace’s apartment. It was a good feeling.

Bear went back to sleep, convinced he had done all he could to get Root and Shaw on the right track. He was exhausted.

In the meantime, Shaw took a cab to the address, where she could easily see through the bay glass window, that the party was still in full swing. She could hear the loud music and saw some people were dancing inside. She stood on the balls of her feet, to peer over the wrought iron gate.

Root was there – laughing and having a good time.

“Oh,” Shaw said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at having followed her here. It made her feel needy and vulnerable; two feelings that violated her code of honor.  
Inside, Paulina’s cup of patience was just about to spill over. She had invited her good friend out with them because Root was the crazy one who made everything more interesting. But tonight, she was boring Paulina to tears with her nonstop stories about her friend, Sameen Shaw. Shaw this and Shaw that, was all Paulina thought she heard. She drank, hoping it would make Root stop talking, but of course, that never works.  
Finally, the woman decided the way to shut Root up was to kiss her – something she had tried unsuccessfully several times before. Each time, Root evaded the kiss and explained why that crossed a boundary.

Paulina may have gotten her feelings hurt, but there was never any physical altercation.

Until tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will happen next, do you think?


	57. Shaw's Beef

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many wonderful ways this could go. I hope I found one.

Adrenaline shot through Shaw like lightning. It was as if seeing that woman trying to kiss Root finally connected all the loose dots inside her. Root wasn’t in danger and she had proven to be able to handle herself if she were. She didn’t need Shaw to save her. If she wasn’t in peril, why were Sameen’s feet rushing up the stone steps to the private residence?

Then, something stopped her. “No, no, no!” Sameen pleaded as something interfered with her adrenaline rush. “Ugh!” she uttered, stopping and standing on the top step. She remembered what she learned in her operative training – “ _Don’t ever second guess yourself_.” Why was she second guessing herself now? The more she asked, the more confused she got. “Shoulda brought the stupid dog,” she whispered because she needed clarity. Sameen looked at her phone. She knew the second best thing.

Iris was sleeping soundly when her phone rang. She reached over and saw an unfamiliar number. “Hello, this is Doctor Campbell,” she said, her voice sleepy and soft.

“You got me into this,” came the familiar voice on the other end of the phone. “Now, you get me out.”

It took Iris a second, but the anger in the voice was a dead giveaway. “Sameen?” she guessed correctly and sat up in bed immediately, putting the light on.

“ _Feeling this_ , _feeling that_ , and now I’m stuck and on the top step of a house in Chelsea because I can’t figure out what to do, thanks to you,” Shaw blamed the woman. It seemed perfectly logical to Shaw that Iris should share in this responsibility.

Iris knew, with so little information to go on, she had to tread lightly with the explosive woman. “Why are you in Chelsea?” she asked and got out of bed, grabbing the pen and pad that were always on her nightstand.

“Because ….,” Shaw yelled, throwing her free hand up and in the air. Not as easy an answer as she thought. “Because….I had to go to dinner so Harold and Grace could try out for America’s Got Parents and then Root went to dinner with her friends and ..I wanted to tell her about how well her plan worked for Genrika, and that stupid dog made me come here,” Shaw said and then sat on the top step and buried her head in her hands. “Strike that last sentence,” Sameen begged

“So, you wanted to see Root,” Iris stated, getting settled in a chair now and putting on her reading glasses to write down notes.

“Yes, I wanted to see her!” Shaw said annoyed. Wasn’t that what she had said? “She put that whole plan together and I got stuck going with them, so yeah, I wanted her to know how it went.”

“Why didn’t you just go in and tell her?” Iris asked picturing Shaw outside, unable to go in.

“There’s …she’s with …..friends,” Shaw said in a very low voice and then mustered up her anger. “You told me to get in touch with my feelings and my feeling right now is to rush in there and rip that ginormous model in two. I could do it!”

Talking to Sameen was like being on a roller coaster ride – without the safety harness. You had to hold on, lean in, and pray you didn’t get whiplash. “Your feelings are telling you to …rip someone in half?” Iris asked gingerly.

“She kissed Root the other night. I snapped and pushed her up against a wall,” Shaw told on herself.

“What were you feeling, Sameen?” Iris asked the all-important question.

Shaw detested that question, or any other question that had to do with what she was feeling. “I thought Root was in danger.” It sounded like a good answer.

“From a kiss? From a friend?” Iris pointed out and knew any second she could lose Sameen. “And that’s what you were thinking. What was the feeling, Sameen?”

Shaw shot up straight and decided that was it – the woman had crossed the line and she was going to hang up on her.

Except, she couldn’t. It was like a moth being drawn to the flame that for certain would ignite its wings, but Shaw couldn’t disconnect from the therapist. She pushed and pushed to figure out the puzzle the woman presented. What was the feeling? She remembered how instantly she reacted. “I …didn’t ….like it,” she admitted as if each word came to her slowly. She remembered how tight her chest felt when she witnessed it.

“Did you feel ……jealous?” Iris asked and could hear Shaw’s breathing get jagged. It took a minute for Sameen to answer.

“Yes,” Shaw answered, as if confessing a sin. Admitting feelings equated to just that for Shaw.

“Is Root inviting this woman’s affections?” Iris asked, just to clarify and was hit back with a resounding – No! – but Shaw wasn’t totally certain. She didn’t know Root’s history.

“Look, Doc, I have spent my life following my gut. It’s rarely wrong, and you screwed that up for me. What do I do now?” Shaw said, peeking over the railing now to see Paulina was still sitting on the arm of the chair, talking to Root.

“Maybe, Sameen, it’s time to …follow…your heart instead,” the therapist said, almost cringing because she expected Shaw to explode at how ridiculous that was.

“Follow... my... heart,” Shaw repeated, as if trying to figure out what part of her body that was.

“Try to explain to Root what you’re feeling,” Iris suggested.

“Yes, I’ll …tell Root,” Shaw said, as if she was just handed orders on how to deal with a crisis situation. “Okay, Doc, I’m going in,” she signed off and hung up the phone.

Iris put her phone down; her thoughts on Sameen and the many different ways this could play out. She prayed none of them involved the police.

* * *

Shaw paced along the top step, taking in what the therapist just told her. “Just tell Root…,” she repeated as if to committing the steps to memory. The more she thought about it, the more the circuits aligned inside her head and finally....,

Shaw got it.

* * *

Now, inside you had a bunch of people who were terribly rich, very indulged and many who believed the rules that apply to regular people, didn’t apply to them. This would explain why one had a gun.

Paulina figured it was just a matter of time before her prowess and good looks wore her friend down. “Just a kiss,” she pleaded and Root explained for the umpteenth time why not.

“Paulina, I told you – to be with someone, I have to feel it, in _here_ , “ Root said, pressing on her heart.

“But maybe you could, over time?” the model suggested because she was head over heels in love. “Don’t tell me you prefer that little woman!”

Root hadn’t said she did, but of course, her nonstop talking and thinking about Shaw was indication enough. Oh, and the way her face lit up when she said her name.

* * *

“Following my heart,” Shaw repeated as she knocked on the door and was greeted by the host.

“The more, the merrier,” Victor said upon seeing the beautiful woman.  “And why are you here?” he asked, unsure of whose friend she was.

“Following my heart,” Shaw whispered, not to him, but he didn’t know that.

“Well, I would like to follow that great ass,” Victor said, eyeing Shaw as she walked in.

The ruckus at the door wasn’t enough to cause Paulina to notice, but the guy who let Shaw in – and then touched her – noticed the fist coming back in his face when Sameen walked past him. “Hey, you can’t….,” his martial arts friend said, but Shaw disposed of him, too.

“Following my heart,” Shaw repeated her mantra.

Most guests had been drinking and weren’t even aware of the tornado that was moving through the apartment now, knocking over whatever got in its way. “Don’t,” Shaw warned a woman who grabbed a bottle to hit her. “I’m warning you,” Sameen said so convincingly, the woman put it back down.

“Hey you,” a man said, grabbing Shaw’s arm and she instinctively pulled him in, reiterated her mantra, as she head-butted him and knocked him over.

* * *

“Look at this pretty face,” Paulina was saying to Root. “You can’t blame me for trying. See, you want to, don’t you? You’re smiling at me?”

Like the vision of Shaw walking out of the mist the night before; suddenly Sameen was walking through the crowd of screaming guests.

“I’m not smiling at you,” Root clarified, looking right at her little powerhouse. Root noticed the odd expression on Shaw’s face as her lips seem to be saying something over and over.

Shaw walked over and stood in front of Root. She hadn’t been rehearsing what to say, but rather, giving her feelings permission to speak.

And that, they did.

“Get away from my girlfriend, bitch,” Shaw growled.

Paulina knew her advantage was her height, so she went to stand up, to tower over the smaller woman, but Shaw was ready. She kicked the woman from behind her knee, bringing her down to size when her legs collapsed. “If I see you trying to kiss her again, I will rip your lips off,” Shaw said, looking down into the woman’s face now.

“Samantha!” Paulina cried to do something.

“She’s got a point, Paulina. I tried to tell you…,” Root said, grinning from ear to ear and standing up. “I can’t be with someone …..,” she said, looking into Sameen’s eye, “…unless I feel it…here.”

Root heard what Shaw called her – and she knew she wasn’t there as her bodyguard. More importantly, it seemed, Shaw knew why she was there.

Shaw allowed the feelings to rush at her – and could only do that – because of the way Root was looking at her. She never felt so wanted, so accepted, in all her life. Shaw reached up and put her hands on Root’s head, pulling her down to kiss her – passionately and with such longing, that Root’s head got dizzy.

People stopped and stared; many with envy.

Shaw released Root and grabbed her hand - “Let’s go,” she said because she wanted to be alone with Root. Root allowed Sameen to pull her gently through the crowd, until they came face to face with Victor - who was now armed and stupid.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he shouted and Shaw could tell by the way his hand shook, he wasn’t very well trained.

As if his question deserved an answer, Sameen gave it great thought. She remembered what Gen said to her before she got in the car.

“Not screwing up my one chance,” Sameen answered thoughtfully, looking back at Root. “And I don’t want to hurt you,” she added with a look of – _but I will._

“She can dead lift a hundred and forty-five pounds,” Root all but giggled, showing off how strong her girlfriend was.  
Victor hesitated just a little too long for Shaw, who decided to disarm him quickly. She put the gun on the table, after he fell down on the floor.

That was Shaw’s only mistake that night.

* * *

As soon as they got outside, Root pulled Shaw back into her. “I’m so glad you came tonight,” she said, leaning in and kissing Shaw hard.

“We…better…go,” Shaw said, knowing any second now, someone would call the cops.

Several blocks away, Root stopped Shaw under the glow of a streetlight. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said sweetly to the woman who made her heart race.

“I finally figured it out, Root,” Shaw said, staring up into Root’s smiling eyes.

“What’s that, Sweetie?” Root asked as they began walking again, holding hands.

“I never felt safe with all that feeling stuff,” Shaw said sincerely. Then she stopped to look up at Root. “Until you, Root. I feel safe with you.”

Tears slipped right down Root’s cheek as she heard Shaw’s sentiments. Her heart burst with such joy, that it actually hurt with a delicious pain of being loved.

“Oh, you’re not gonna cry, are you?” Sameen worried, because she was pretty sure – tears were covered in the advanced class with Iris.

“Just a little,” Root said, pulling Shaw in close as they walked home. “Just a little.”


	58. Dreamsicles

Shaw woke up to the sensation of her face being stroked in long, warm, wet kisses.

She smiled, but then suddenly realized - it wasn’t Root!

“Okay, okay, so you were right,” she said, believing the dog was there to gloat about telling her to go last night. Enough was enough though, and she tried to push his mouth away; but she couldn’t. She pulled and suddenly realized her hands were both zip tied to the head of the bed. “What the hell?” she said, looking up to see them restrained in plastic fasteners. “ROOT!” she yelled and the more she yelled, the more the dog thought she was playing. He thought Shaw was fair game like that and kept pushing at her. “ROOT!” she yelled and the woman finally came back in.

“Oh, good morning, Sweetie,” Root said, her voice in a sing-song tone, and her demeanor nonchalant. She sat down on the bed with what looked like a cherry ice Popsicle, next to Shaw.

Even for the woman who could eat steak first thing in the morning, that seemed like an odd choice of breakfast food.

Sameen stared at her, waiting for her to explain. “Uhm, excuse me, but ….what is this?” Shaw grunted and pushed at the dog to get away with her body.

“ _This_ ….,” Root said, her tongue running up the side of the ice, “….is you being tied down.”

“When? How?” Shaw asked, pulling against the ties unsuccessfully. “Did we…?” she finally asked, unable to remember if their lovemaking tipped the scales into something else.

“Did we …… _what_?” Root asked innocently - and Shaw knew she was acting like she didn’t know what was going on, for the sole purpose of getting her to say it.

Shaw groaned and pulled at the ties. “Did you…..do this…to me?”

“Me?” she asked, like she hadn’t been there all night. “Oh, I’ve got a lot of fantasies about you, and I admit, one or two….,” she said, running the tip of her tongue down the cherry ice as she thought about that, “…okay, several of them involved you being …well, like _this_ , but no; not last night.”

“What the hell, Root?” Shaw said, which was her euphemism for _please explain this._

“Oh that?” Root answered finally. “You’re in relationship, Sweetie. That’s bound to happen all the time, now.”

Root acting crazy was nothing new to Shaw; not being about to get out of zip ties was. She pulled and pulled until she thought one more jerk would do it. “Yes!” she yelled and broke free. She was pretty sure the first thing she was going to do was put her hands around Root’s neck.

But then……. she woke up.

* * *

“Are you okay, honey?” Root said, startled out of her deep sleep, next to Shaw.

Sameen shot up in bed, looking down at her wrists, which showed no signs of being restrained. “I thought….you had me……,” she said, looking back at the headboard that had no manacles. “My hands…I couldn’t move…..I need coffee.”

“Well, that …..was interesting,” Root said, imagining what Shaw thought happened. It wasn’t a far leap to make, giving she was rubbing her wrists. “Let me see,” Root said, as if there really were a mark. It gave her an opportunity to gently pull Shaw down next to her again. “Last night …was wonderful,” she said softly.

“Last night …was noisy,” Shaw teased because of the dishes breaking.

“I mean…before that, although that was great, too,” Root smiled. The image of Shaw coming into the apartment in Chelsea would remain one of her favorite all time memories.

Shaw leaned up in bed, to look down at Root. “I think…no, I know…. I was….a little….a lot …rough …on your model friend,” Sameen admitted, but if she was worried that Root didn’t appreciate it, the long hard kiss Root pulled her into erased those fears.

Root decided to test the waters – because of all the things they talked about last night; what Sameen called Root wasn’t one of them.

“My…. _girlfriend_ ….is …a badass,” Root said, feeling incredibly turned on by that truth. She waited to see if Sameen would react to that word, and she did - she smiled. Root didn’t care if she was encouraging, condoning or secretly living through Sameen’s talent for expressing herself physically. It was hot.

* * *

An hour later, the two women walked into the kitchen where Bear was just back from his walk with Daan. “Oh, so that explains it,” the young man said, smiling as he saw the couple.

“Nope, not going to ask. I refuse to ask…..explains what?” Shaw said, giving into the temptation.

“Why Bear is so full of himself this morning,” the trainer relayed.

“Don’t care, I don’t…care,” Shaw stated, trying to resist. “Okay, what does that even mean?” Shaw gave in again.

“Well, you two….,” Daan said slowly, raising an all knowing eyebrow.

“What? He told you? You believe that he talked me in to going there ……last night? Did he tell you that somehow, like in dog code or something? Like he’s the reason I went and we came back together?” Shaw demanded to know.

The trainer stood up straight and just looked at the shorter woman as she ranted. “Uhm, I was going to say….he likes the extra attention…..because there…are two of you now……?” he noted on a high note.

Shaw looked down at the dog and she swore he shook his head at how ridiculous she just sounded. She did the two fingers to her eyes and back to him, but Bear wasn’t buying it.

“He seems especially tired this morning,” Daan said to Root and they agreed to cancel his early morning appointments and let him rest.

And then because the coffee had not kicked in at all, Shaw admitted foolishly – “When I die, I’d like to come back as Bear.” It was too easy a line for Root – who whispered – “Ooh, collars. Now, that is kinky,” she said, running her finger across Shaw’s throat. Sameen tried to push her hand away.

“Okay, that is not what I meant, and you know it,” Shaw yelled as Root left the room. She shook her head and noticed two more sets of eyes on her. “That is so not what I meant,” she said waving her finger and Bear and his trainer. “And you know it.”

Bear was too tired to respond, but Daan thought how difficult his job would be if Shaw did come back as the dog. “She’d be a biter, for sure,” he confided in the dog when she left. Bear agreed.

* * *

“So, having a little dream this morning?” Root brought up again when they were in the elevator at work. “I’m all about making your dreams come true, Sweetie,” she smiled, moving into Shaw’s space, and playing with the stray stand of hair hanging in Sameen’s face.

“No!” Shaw immediately said. “I’m fine.”

“Sounds to me like you were having a nightmare….. about being tied down,” Root noted. “Was it a nightmare?”

“No, it was probably….the …..food. I ate a lot,” Shaw attempted to explain.

“I’ll say,” Root smiled seductively, commenting on how they spent their evening.

Shaw just stared as the elevator doors opened. No matter how often it happened, she was caught off guard by Root’s impulsive suggestive remarks. “My…floor,” Shaw coughed and got off, smiling at Root.

* * *

“Can you tell me why you’re calling in a homicide detective on a home invasion case?” Fusco complained when his presence was requested.

“I like to think of you as the detective who can prevent a murder,” his boss shared with him, walking with him to the interview room.  
Inside sat a tall, slender built, blonde man with blackened eyes, a swollen nose, and his arm in a sling. “Victor Kane and his lawyer,” the Captain said to Fusco. “Tell him,” he said and the complainant repeated his story. He was in his home when a crazy woman stormed through the door, talking to herself. He asked what she was doing there; she mumbled something and barged in. When he went to stop her, she punched him. Minutes later, after hitting or threatening other guests, she walked out. He tried to stop her, but she punched him. Fusco was really confused why he was there until the injured man said – “She was a little dark haired woman; angry, very, very angry,” he described her. Still, Fucso figured that described a lot of New Yorkers.

“How can I help?” Fusco asked.

“He says she pulled a gun on him,” his Captain said and pushed a file over for Fusco to see. As soon as he opened it, he saw what the database showed; the gun had Shaw’s fingerprints on it.

“Are…you sure?” he asked and Victor starting yelling and his lawyer said they had some nerve to doubt a man after a home invasion.

The Captain said they’d be back and walked outside. “He says he’s never seen the gun before and only handled it after Shaw brandished it. If she weren’t working for us …sometimes…..I would just have her picked up,” he explained. “I’d like you to go get her.”

“Alone?” Fusco said and inquired if any of the SWAT team was available. “Oh, she is not going to like this,” he said, preparing to go uptown.

“Hey you,” he called out to a rookie. “Did you ever work a hostage situation?”

The rookie shook his head no.

“Come with me and you might just get some experience,” Fusco said as they started to leave.

“Who’s being held?” the young cop asked anxiously.

“I’m hoping it’s not me,” he said to his new partner and suggested he keep his bullet proof vest on.”


	59. Tomato ,Tomahto; Potato, Potahto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to every one who posted and offered kudos. I do appreciate it very much.

By the time Fusco and the rookie got to the BEAR building, he had instructed the kid on how to inform a suspect that they were, in fact, the suspect. “Don’t let her scare you,” he bolstered his partner. “You just tell her you have to ask her a few questions.” Fusco thought this was the best training exercise the rookie would ever get.

* * *

As soon as Janine saw Shaw that morning, she knew there was something different about her. And rather than keep that to herself, she decided to make note of it. “You look ….radiant this morning, Ms. Shaw,” Janine announced to the general population on the floor.

“Really?” Shaw said, wondering what the difference could be. “Now that you mention it,” Sameen admitted, “I do feel kinda calm this morning. At peace with the world sorta feeling.”

Clasping her hands together at her heart, Janine all but swooned, knowing that only love can make a person look and feel like that.

* * *

Iris was looking forward to seeing Sameen that day. She got her chance that morning when she and Sameen were both getting coffee.

“Hey, Doc,” Shaw said in the friendliest tone Iris had ever heard her use.

“Sameen, how are you?” Iris asked, realizing she couldn’t expand on things given that they were in an open area.

“Good, good,” Shaw said, lacking the vocabulary for positive feelings unlike when she was upset. “It went….well,” she updated the therapist. “So, thank you….for that.”

It was Sameen’s sincerity that filled in the gaps her sparse words left. Iris could tell from the smile on her face how things turned out. “I am….really happy to hear that,” Iris said, smiling.

Shaw pushed her hands into her pockets, looking around the room. “So, there’s probably ….no use for me …you know…to come back in…..” In Sameen’s world, you assessed the issue, carried out the best possible response and fixed it. End of story.

Iris saw it as a big step, but one of many she believed Shaw was capable of. “Sameen, my door is always opened,” Iris reminded her.

Shaw was teetering on admitting she still might want to come in, even though there was no big issue looming over them. “Yeah, okay then, sure,” she said; her intention switching to never setting foot in that office again; even though she really wanted to. “So, that’s fine. We’re good,” Shaw said trying to convince herself it was - as she walked back to her desk.

Iris found herself wishing she could think of a way to make it so Shaw wouldn’t have a choice but to come in. She knew that would make it easier for Sameen to return. For that to happen, Iris was going to need help with this.

* * *

The elevator dinged and the Rookie and Fusco got off on Shaw’s floor. The young cop approached the woman he had only seen from afar at the station a few times. “Miss…God, you’re beautiful,” he said, taken by Sameen’s face.

As if tossing the new moniker around in her head as she ate a donut, Shaw replied: “A little cumbersome for business cards, but I like it.”

“Hey, Shaw,” Fusco greeted her.

“We need you to ask you some questions,” the Rookie said in a robotic tone.

“I have a job. Fusco, tell him, I have a job and I’m here two weeks now and I’m trying out for the attendance award, so yeah – I can’t do rookie seminars,” Shaw said because why else would they want her.

“No, Ms. Shaw…we need…,” the Rookie tried again and got lost in staring at the woman. This time his gaze was stuck in her cleavage.

“You better take this one back, Fusco. He’s not ready,” Shaw said and turned back around.

Frustrated, the inexperienced cop put his hand on her arm. Fusco simply stepped back to give Shaw room to shove the lad against her cubicle. She held him in such a tight grip, he couldn’t move.

“Did you just put your hand on me?” Shaw growled.

The young cop didn’t like it, but Iris witnessed it, and thought it might be the solution to Shaw’s problem.

“Do you want me to name all the things you did wrong, Rookie?” Fusco said, picking up Shaw’s donut and about to take a bite when she released the cop and grabbed it back. “I don’t have that much time,” Fusco said.

“I could add that to the list,” the cop said to Fusco.

“What is this about? What list?” she asked, rolling her eyes and finishing the donut.

“This numbskull wants to press charges,” Fusco explained, showing Shaw a picture of Victor.

“For what?” Shaw asked.

“H _ome invasion, threatening with a gun, causing general mayhem,_ and _threatening guests with aggravated assault_ ,” the Rookie read off his pad.

Janine, who had been watching this play out, immediately got Root on the phone. “Ms. Groves, I’m sorry to disturb you, but the cops are here to see Ms. Shaw. A Victor Kane wants to press charges. And Ms. Shaw just pushed the little cop. I’m afraid she’s going to get in trouble. Do you want me to send them up?”

“No, I’ll come down,” the CEO said calmly, but first sent Bear on a mission.

Fusco expected to hear Shaw rant about how ridiculous those assertions were, but instead she said – “Oh.”

“Oh? What does that mean?” Fusco asked.

“Well, I did go into his premises, I may…have…caused some ….mayhem; I only threatened people who got in my way, and I punched him when he touched my ass. And, I was aggravated,” Shaw admitted to her friend.

“He touched you?” Fusco said, but his voice sounded higher. Root was now there and she had uttered the same words.

“When did he touch you?” Root demanded to know.

“On the way in. Oh, and he threatened me with a gun on the way out,” Shaw explained.

“The gun had your prints on it,” the young cop reported.

“And the bullets? Did they have my prints?” Shaw asked because she was beginning to lose patience with him.

“Only the gun was recovered,” the Rookie added.

“Detective Fusco; young-inexperienced-annoying-cop,” Root greeted them and asked what this was all about.

“We have to question Ms. Shaw about a complaint from a Mr. Kane, ma’am,” the young cop said

“Okay, first,” Root started, “Don’t ever call me ma’am. Secondly, let’s go to my office where I can guarantee Mr. Kane is going to appear shortly and we’ll get this all figured out.”

The way Root stood there, directly everything and not listening to anyone – kind of impressed Shaw.

“Look, I can handle this,” Sameen said, but Root smiled and pointed to the elevator.

“I got this, Sweetie,” Root winked.

* * *

The foursome returned to Root’s office where the Rookie reread the complaints and Root answered them. “Well, I can corroborate Sameen’s story,” Root informed them. “He pulled the gun on her and she disarmed him. And she did it beautifully.”

Fusco sat back, thankful that he wouldn’t have to bear the brunt of this. If he thought Shaw was tough, he could tell, Root was going to be worse.

“Not only can I substantiate that Mr. Kane attacked Ms. Shaw, I can give you the piece of evidence that will make this all go away,” Root said and she was so damn confident, that even Sameen looked at her wondering how. Root looked at her watch and put her index finger up when the Rookie went to speak. She got up and looked out her window on the street downstairs. “Just as I suspected,” she said, “Gridlock. Oh, there he is,” she almost squealed.

Fusco looked at Shaw who shrugged her shoulders. Several minutes later, Root clasped her hands. “Here we go,” she said as she opened the glass door to her office for Bear …..and Victor.

“That crazy dog grabbed me by my ankle and practically pulled me here,” Victor complained to his friend, Root. “Look at my pants! There’s a tear.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Victor; Bear looked both ways before crossing and couldn’t have done that if he was holding onto you,” Root chastised him.

Fusco was just about to inquire – how – when Shaw put her hand on his arm. “Don’t ask,” she advised him.

When the man, who was accosted by the Belgian Shepherd, walked in, he saw who was there and immediately acted afraid. Or maybe it wasn’t an act.

“That woman! I can’t be …near her,” he started and Root told him to sit on the couch – away from Shaw.

Shaw shot up from her seat, about to give the man several reasons why he shouldn’t be in the same room, but Root intervened. “As much as I adore it when you separate people from their breaths, right now wouldn’t be the best time,” she cautioned.

“But he…,” Shaw stammered at the audacity of the idiot.

“Yes, I know, Victor is a great many things. A good liar is not one of them,” Root said, assuring Shaw.

Then Root explained how there must be a misunderstanding and how this was Victor’s one chance to set things straight before charges were pressed against him for making a story up about Sameen.

“She held a gun on me,” Victor said, trying to keep to his story.

Bear growled and the man jumped.

“Did you file a false complaint…with the NYPD, sir?” Fusco asked annoyed.

“No, she held a gun…she hit my nose, look at my eyes!” Victor reiterated and Sameen stood up again, ready to complete the nose job.

“Shaw,” Fusco warned, getting in her way. “Let Cocoa Puffs handle this.”

“This must be code,” the Rookie decided and tried to look it up.

Root was acting so friendly, that it really confused the man. “You know, Victor, the gun wasn’t even loaded,” Root said in so pleasant a tone that the man forgot whose side she was on.

“I don’t ever leave it loaded,” he said and then bit his own lip.

“YOU WHAT?” the Rookie yelled, finally getting on board. “Sir, you just admitted that the gun was in your possession.”

That wasn’t even the worst part of Victor’s day.

Upon hearing the confession, Root pulled the man up by the lapels of his very expensive suit. “That’s my girlfriend you messed with Victor.”

“Oh, my God, is that a jumper on the building over there?” Shaw yelled, looking out the window, to get everyone’s attention – except Root’s because she had a sneaky feeling Root was going to do something.

“WHERE?” the policemen both yelled and rushed to where she stood.

“Oh, no it was just ….a ….reflection or something. So, are we all done here?” Shaw asked, because she was hungry.

“You’re done,” the Rookie said, “…but Mr. Kane will need to come with us,” he said, looking around for the man.

Finally, they cast their eyes down and there was Victor, bent over and breathless on the floor. “Wow,” Root said as if it was the first time she saw him like this, “He really tripped himself up.” Fusco looked right at Root, who was standing next to Shaw. “He’s ready to recant now,” Root smiled and Lionel just shook his head.

“One of yous alone is bad, but two of yous. No, that’s not gonna be good for any of us,” Fusco said, and told the Rookie to grab the injured man, who couldn’t speak.

* * *

When the trio was finally out of the office, Shaw turned to Root. “So, you …sent Bear to get him?”

“Yes,” Root answered truthfully, standing so close to Shaw, she could play with the stray stand of hair in her face.

“And then you…..,” Shaw said, knowing exactly that Root did to him.

“He made up a story to the cops; he’ll answer to them for that. He touched my girlfriend; he answered to me,” Root said demonstratively.

Shaw couldn’t help but smile at Root. “You’re pretty badass yourself,” came the highest compliment Sameen could pay, and Root was all smiles.

“Unfortunately,” Root said, acting in Sameen’s best interest, “Company policy dictates that anyone involved in an office altercation, has to report to Dr. Campbell.”

“Then, I guess I’ll let you go,” Sameen said, because – let’s face it – it was Root who just altercated.

“Actually, mine didn’t count,” Root said apologetically, because she was making this whole thing up as she went along.

“Why do you get such pleasure out of confusing me with your cryptic explanations?” Shaw claimed.

“There were no witnesses to what transpired here. For all we know, Kane collapsed under the lies he was telling. Regrettably, people did see you ….get tough with the little cop,” Root reported and Shaw was immediately suspicious.

“Are you telling me – your dog can go bite someone’s ankle to get them here and nothing happens, but I push that nerd out of my way and …and …I have to go report to the shrink?” Shaw bellowed at the inequity.

“Oh, no,” Root said, “Bear will be reprimanded for using excessive force,” she explained and Bear whined defensively.

“Why does he get off?” Shaw asked, as if they were …equals.

“He’s not getting dessert,” Root explained to the foodie who suddenly felt sorrier for the dog.

“Oh,” Shaw replied. “Isn’t that a little too much?” she whispered.

Bear sat up straight, forgiving Shaw all of her prior transgressions.

“We’ll talk about it over dinner,” Root compromised.

“I tried,” Shaw explained to Bear as she left.

He waited until Sameen was gone before arguing that Root instructed him to bring that man using - (and if he could do air quotes, he would have) – ‘ _any force necessar_ y’ – he barked loudly.

“I know,” Root comforted her sidekick. “I did that so Sameen will go to see Dr. Campbell. It’s...... complicated,” she said, dangling the metal handcuffs she lifted from the Rookie.

* * *

Complicated for Bear maybe, but not for Root who understood that her girlfriend had trouble in actually accepting what she wanted. So, when Iris spoke to Root about a hypothetical situation, with a hypothetical client, Root understood.

“You know I don’t want to be here, right?” Shaw said emphatically to the therapist.

“Yes, I know, but it’s required,” Iris explained, and sat down across from Sameen with her pad and pen.

“How long do I have to come for now?” Shaw asked as if it were a fate worse than death.

Iris flipped through some pages as if it was taking some time to dig through the information. “Well, anger management typically is a six week program,” Iris said, and closed the blank pages.

“What the hell do I need anger management for?” Shaw barked and caught herself.

Silence filled the space and allowed Sameen’s uneasiness to fill the room. She fought the pressure to be the first to speak, until she couldn’t bear it anymore.

“So, I had this ......dream…..” she began, rolling her eyes.


	60. Recipe for Success

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you.

It was hard to say which Root had more faith in; Shaw’s ability to learn to trust, or her own skill to figure out what Shaw needed to make that easier. Root sat there at the granite counter in the kitchen that night, as Shaw told her all about going to talk to Iris.

“So…..,” Shaw said, shoving another piece of garlic bread oozing with butter, into her mouth. “…we talked about that dream I had,” she started before taking a mouthful of spaghetti rolled around the fork. Root sat there, her plate practically untouched, as she gazed at the full lips that took in the food, and let out the thoughts. “…..Doc said it just means…you know…that this is the first…..relationship…..( _mouthful of spaghetti and slight moan over how good it was_ ) …….. I’ve been in…….( _more bread_ ) …. that I care about, and that old fears ……( _more spaghetti_ ) ……..still hang around, so it makes sense that I would worry – unconsciously- that ….( _bread_ )….I would feel restrained, you know, by it,” Sameen said and then took a long drink of water to aid with the mouthfuls of food. Shaw then realized that Root was staring at her and smiling. “Are you listening?” Shaw asked, about to get offended because talking about this stuff sucked.

“Yes, every word,” Root said and then repeated back her summary accurately. .

“Oh, good,” Shaw replied, glad that she didn’t have to repeat any of it.

“So…..,” Root began, finally breaking her gaze and taking some food, “…did Doctor Campbell discuss the very effective option of….. _systematic desensitization_?” Root asked, sounded quite scholarly. (E _xposing one gradually to the object or situation that causes them great fear)._

“No,” Shaw shook her head, her mouth was busy slurping an errant string of spaghetti.  She knew what the phrase meant, but now how it would apply to her.

“Oh, they’ve had great success with it,” Root said, having read some journals on it that very afternoon.

Thinking it was some other crazy program she’d have to go to, Sameen protested; “Look, it’s bad enough that I have to keep going to Campbell. She said anger management is at least six weeks.”

Root didn’t buy the protesting one bit, but shook her head at how awful that sounded. Not.

“Anger management?” Root said quizzically, and was genuinely surprised that anyone would think her little firecracker was in need of that.

Sameen immediately saw how surprised Root was and took that as confirmation. “Right?” she said, like – how the hell did they pick that one?

“Well, they have to put something down for the insurance, I bet,” Root surmised and Shaw liked that explanation. Root was going to make sure that the good therapist understood she didn’t want anything changed about Sameen.

“Anger ….( _bite/chew)_ ……management! Pfft!” Shaw scoffed.

“Well, anyway,” Root said, running her finger along Shaw’s arm now to get her attention, “…..I was thinking of something more along the lines of what we could do….at home…to help.”

There was no mistaking the evocative tone of Root’s voice, but nothing about systematic desensitization sounded like fun.

Silly Sameen to doubt Root could make almost anything ….fun.

“You don’t want to hook me up to electrodes, do you?” Shaw rolled her eyes and hadn’t ruled it out as something Root would be into.

“Nooo,” Root said, gently slapping Sameen’s hand, but then getting lost in the fantasy of what she would do if Sameen were connected….

“Earth to Root,” Shaw interrupted, because it was so easy to see when Root was drifting off.

Root came back to the moment and smiled. “I thought …..maybe I could help…..supplement your talk therapy with …,”

“With systematic desensitization,” Shaw said, hoping to get Root to complete one thought. “And how do your propose to cure me of whatever it is that you think I have?”

Root reached behind her back and produced the metal handcuffs by putting them on the table. The broad smile on her face was equal to the frown of confusion on Sameen’s. “You want ….to….handcuff me?” Shaw asked, more perplexed than threatened.

“Yes,” Root giggled, so excited, she was unable to say another word. She bit down hard on her lip at just the thought of helping Shaw….this way. “To help desensitize your….fears……to feeling tied…down,” Root explained, but couldn’t keep the excited look at the prospects of that, off her face.

“Where …did you…?” Shaw asked, because they looked like the ones NYPD issued.

“The rookie,” Root confessed and grinned broadly at how bold that was.

“You stole them? From a cop?” Shaw asked, both impressed and surprised.

“He didn’t look like he knew how to use them,” Root said, again trailing her finger up Shaw’s arm,” …..I borrowed them….for therapeutic purposes of helping you explore your….trust issues.”

“That sounds…both vague and dangerous,” Shaw assessed and truly believed Root would tell the police that if she were ever questioned. “So, if I understand you correctly,” Shaw began, pushing the long piece of hair that hung in her face to the side, “….you want to use these….,” she said, gently taking the cuffs, “………on me, to help me get past….,” she said slowly and now flames were starting to ascend inside Root. “…..my …trust issues?”

Shaw’s pupils looked entirely dilated, her breath warm as she leaned into Root. “Maybe…,” Root said, unable to speak when Shaw showed initiative.

Then Root heard the click of the cuffs.

“You first,” Shaw said, smirking triumphantly.

Root looked down to see her hand cuffed to the arm of the kitchen swivel chair at the island.

“Clever, but kind of a mood breaker,” Root decided, as Shaw walked out laughing.

Apparently, games of foreplay had a different meaning to the military trained woman; she deemed them battles of wit. “Oh, Sameen,” the cuff clad woman sighed. Then said - “Yes, I need your help,” Root huffed when Bear raised his head at how easily she fell for that.

* * *

Sameen flopped down on the couch, triumphant over Root’s ruse, with no idea how poorly she really did fail that. She was surprised at how quickly Root escaped, until she saw Bear walk out behind her. “Damn!” she admitted as a fault, “I should never have left him in there.“

Root sat down next to Shaw, and laughed at how serious Shaw was at losing. “Fine!” Shaw said, sulking and putting her wrists out, thinking it was her turn to show how easily she could get out.

“Sweetie,” Root said gently, “….it’s not like - _tag-you're-it_..,” she explained as she played with Shaw’s ponytail.

“Huh?” Shaw asked, because - it that wasn’t it, what was it?

Root bit the inside of her mouth to stop the smile that wanted to burst forward because Sameen confused was just freaking adorable.

And frustrating.

“It’s more…,” Root said, trying to think of the analogy that would work with Sameen, “….like ..I want to hold you in place,” she said, letting her long finger slip down the front of Shaw’s blouse until the fabric allowed her whole hand in to cup her full breast, “…..so I can do whatever I want to you. Like, torture you with soft kisses until you scream for me to release you.”

Now, _that_ was language Shaw understood!

“Why didn’t you say that?” she asked, granting Root full access to her body.

Allowing Root didn’t mean Shaw could stand being dominated, even if it were only physically. It never ceased to amaze Root how easily Sameen could take her and flip her so that she lay underneath the woman whose toned arms held her in place. Root’s long legs wrapped around Shaw and pulled her down on top, until exposed skin brushed on bare skin.

“God, you are hot,” Root said, her voice, sultry and low as she grabbed Shaw’s ass; feeling what working out could do to glutes.

“God, you talk too much,” Shaw said back, devouring mounds of flesh in her wake.

The couple thrashed around feverishly on the oversized couch now, a frenzy of pulling and mouthing various parts of each other’s bodies; until loud screams to each other and God were heard, as their sexual acuity paid off in spades and simultaneous, massive, absorbing explosions. Yeah, that good.

Bear was in the kitchen, thinking how the couple was panting more than he did after being left to run free in Central Park.

* * *

  
Shaw pushed her long strands of hair that Root had pulled free out of her face. “You’d make a great therapist,” she said, between ragged breaths.

“Then, trust me when I say, you’re going to need another treatment,” Root teased. “As soon as I can breathe again.”

Shaw was secretly grateful to have to attend sessions with Dr. Campbell; but she was really looking forward to Root’s version of homeopathic healing.

Root woke up the next morning without any concern that Shaw wasn’t right next to her. She knew Sameen was a fast learner. “Good morning,” she said when Shaw’s eyes fluttered opened.

Shaw smiled and curled into Root’s body, blissfully aware of how peaceful she felt. “I’m hungry,” she said and then quickly clarified that she meant food. Then she got serious and looked up at Root. “Hey, thanks….,” she said and meant for helping her learn how to be okay in a relationship. “I’m not too familiar…,” Shaw was going to explain, but Root put her finger down on her lip.

“We’re doing this together,” Root said thoughtfully, putting Sameen’s mind at ease for having to explain herself. “Hungry?” she asked, as if she needed to.

* * *

“Now, as much as I’d enjoy some girl talk,” the woman who never stopped talking said to Shaw over breakfast, “…we have a busy night tonight.”

“Do I get any days off? Just saying,” Shaw complained because it seemed she worked every day.

“You’re still on probation, so I don’t think you can afford any time off,” Root teased her.

“What are we doing?” Shaw asked, helping herself to more pancakes and omelets.

“Gala at the Museum of Modern Art,” Root explained and Shaw rolled her eyes at how boring that sounded.

“Is there food at least?” Shaw inquired.

“Yes,” Root said, looking at the official list of invitees. “Oh, dear,” she said and Shaw almost choked because she sounded like Harold.

“Don say dat,” Shaw said, grabbing a glass of orange juice between coughs. Then, she saw how serious Root was. “What?” she asked.

Root took her eyes off the list and looked up at Shaw. “Gregory Miller is attending.”

“Who the hell is …,” Shaw was asking.

“The last time I saw Gregory, he tried to kill me,” Root said, and her voice wasn’t alarmed, it was more – annoyed.


	61. A Mouth to Feed

Shaw made her way downtown to her loft after spending a leisurely afternoon with Root. Since Root was going with Harold and Grace….and now, Gen, she agreed to meet Shaw at the Museum. As soon as Sameen put the key in her door, she felt odd. Her apartment, that was for so long her sanctuary, now seemed dark and gloomy. She looked around at how disheveled the large room looked, which was amazing, considering how little contents there were. Then she heard it – the dreaded, disturbing sound of the only other living thing that occasionally took up residence in her absence – a mouse.

The woman who feared no man; who could shoot an arm, through a brick wall, from a rooftop, could not bring herself to deal with the rodent. “DAMMIT!” she yelled as she moved up on the chair. She grabbed for her Glock, but the landlord…..and the NYPD …had _specifically_ forbidden her to try to handle it that way.

She had no choice but to use her life line – and she called him from atop the table that was in her quarters. “Just …don’t ask,” she instructed him and, being the good friend he was, he didn’t. Instead, Lionel arrived twenty minutes later, having stopped for a few the essential remedy. He found the door opened, and Shaw curled up with her arms wrapped around her knees, her head buried – and holding a gun. Should that thing come near the table, all bets were off and she was blasting him. It still surprised Lionel that such a small thing, harmless in most respects, could bring this superwoman to her knees.

“So, where is the little Kryptonite?” he teased as he came in the door.

Sameen pointed to the bed, where the brazen little thing had taken up residence underneath it. “Oh, well,” said Lionel, who was all decked out in a tux, “….it’s no wonder, with all the food on the floor here, Shaw. Geez, do you ever clean up?”

“Just get him!” came the pathetic demand.

“I brought traps. You got peanut butter?” the elected executioner asked.

“Traps? As in …you kill them and then they’re right there....dead?” Shaw asked in horror.

“Did you run into anything like this …in Afghanistan?” Lionel asked, totally perplexed by this fear.

“I was allowed to shoot them there! But noooo, a person can’t defend themselves in their own apartment in New York City. Where are my rights? Sameen bellowed.

“Okay, sister, take it down a notch. So, no traps?” he asked to make sure, and Shaw shook her head no vehemently.

“You know there’s never just one of them,” Lionel pointed out, thinking that would convince her to use the device, but that made her bury her head and moan. “Okay, okay,” the saintly friend said and decided another tactic was in order. “Do you, by any chance, have a broom?”

“Of course I do,” scoffed Shaw. “How do you think I kill the roaches?”

Lionel shuddered at that thought. How many times had he suggested to Sameen that she move out of this tenement, and how many times had she argued that she couldn’t give up all the amenities the place offered. In truth, she kept it because she hated it – and somehow – that suited her just fine.

Lionel got the broom and carefully inspected it to make sure it wasn’t carrying any of Shaw’s insect kill.

“Why are you dressed up?” she asked, still sitting on top of the table.

“I’m going to that stupid fund raiser at the Museum. Harold bought a whole table and invited his favorite NYPD staff,” Lionel explained.

“Oh, and Carter couldn’t make it, so you’re going?” Shaw badgered the man who just came to her rescue – because that was what she did.

“Very funny, Shaw. And why aren’t you dressed?” he asked, knowing she would be there.

“Because …….,” she said, blaming the mouse who was indulging on the crumbs that she dropped.

“This guy is so full, I don’t think he can give chase,” Lionel laughed as he went to get him and the mouse took off.

“GET HIM, FUSCO!” Shaw screamed.

“You are such a baby,” he said and got his arm smacked hard in response when he passed her. He put the broom down and stood there. “Say you’re sorry,” he demanded because Lionel believed in a little tough love.

“No!” Sameen said, because she never gave in to him.

“Fine, then I’m going,” he said, and started to do just that.

“Lionel, I don’t have time for your games,” Shaw bawled, but when Lionel went to put his jacket back on, she caved. “Okay,okay. I’m …..,” she started and he waited. “Sorry! There, are you happy?”

“You are some piece of work,” her best friend commented as he grabbed the broom, gently hit the mouse enough to stun him and then picked him up by the tail. “Now what, your highness?”

“I don’t know,” Shaw replied. “Put him in someone else’s apartment. 3F – put him there. Hate that guy.”

“Oh, yeah, cause once they find another apartment, they never come back,” Lionel mocked, but Shaw decided it was true.

Lionel disposed of the creature, telling him he was nuts if he returned to Shaw’s place. He came back in and washed up. “You okay?” he asked Shaw, who was still on the table.

“Yes,” she scoffed because she wanted to erase the last few minutes of her life.

“Well, go get ready. I’ll wait,” Lionel said, not mentioning the incident again.

That’s why Fusco was Shaw’s friend.

* * *

Shaw and Fusco arrived before Root got there. She wanted to find out who this guy was that Root mentioned. Shaw, dressed to the nines in a black, low cut dress and heels, her hair pulled back, except for those errant strands that always did as they pleased, entered and saw John.

First, she stopped for food.

“Shaw,” Reese said, as she took a shrimp puff off the pyramid of contents on her plate.

“What?” she said, when she realized John was staring. “I can’t guard on an empty stomach.”

“Has your stomach actually ever been …empty?” Fusco chimed in. “How’s baseball going, Coach?” he asked.

Just reminding Shaw about that, made her laugh, and she juggled the plate in one hand as she fist-bumped Fusco.

“It’s going well,” John answered without any inflection in his voice. “We’re headed for the championship games.”

“Nice!” Fusco said, because he loved sports and coaching. “Where’s Carter?”

“She’ll be along,” John said, because they were seeing more of each other.

“So, you two…an item now?” Shaw asked, and winked at Fusco because she knew they were a good match.

“Yeah,” John answered. “What about you, Lionel?” he asked, deflecting the attention. “Where’s Doctor Campbell?”

“We’re ….,” Lionel started and stalled, “…..meeting here.”

“You do know how to date, don’t you, Lionel,” asked the woman he just saved.

“I know how,” Lionel answered back, “…but there are other issues …to consider.” He was vague on purpose.

“Hey,” Shaw segued because Lionel’s dating wasn’t interesting, “….who is Gregory…..Miller?”

“Why?” John asked, in a more serious tone than usual.

“Because he’s supposed to be here?” Shaw answered, rolling her eyes.

“Where?” John asked, scanning the room that wasn’t yet filled with guests.

“Well, that’s why I want to know. Apparently,….”

“He tried to have Root killed,” John said, looking for the man.

“Could you fill me in on that? Shouldn’t … _security_ ……,” and Shaw pointed at John, “…warn me when someone who threatened my boss is going to be in the same room?”

“We didn’t get an official list,” John pointed out.

“Who is this guy?” Lionel asked because he was concerned.

“Big competitor of BEAR and Root, specifically. Was coming out with a similar program last year and Root got out in front of him. His driver tried to run her over, but said he lost control of his car,” John explained.

“You know, we can check on that, right?” Lionel interrupted.

“The brakes had been tampered with, but I always thought he did that on purpose. He sustained some injuries to cover it up,” John said, and still scanned the room. “There’s Harold.”

Shaw pushed as many of the tiny hors d’oeuvres in her mouth that would fit and then stared back at her friends when they looked at her. “What?” she asked, as if this were the most acceptable thing to do.

“Does she ever not eat?” John wondered out loud.

* * *

Root looked around the large room and then at the long staircase as Shaw was walking down. Root’s entire expression changed when she caught sight of her. It wasn’t just Root’s lips that smiled; it was as if her whole body beamed when she saw the object of her affection. Her head swayed a little, just enough to make her long locks move, and her body oscillated as it responded to the most beautiful thing in the world.

Gen noticed it immediately, because, as we all know, she studied grown-ups.

“You like her,” she said to Root.

“More than you can imagine,” Root answered the declarative statement – as she had before.

Gen liked that Root was unabashed in her affections for Shaw. So many grownups she knew hid their real feelings instead of expressing them. Instead, the young genius thought, they often expressed the opposite feelings.

“Hey,” Shaw said, greeting Root and then Gen. “Well, look at you at your first big fundraiser,” Shaw surmised.

“You look …pretty,” Gen said to Shaw, noticing how different she looked dressed up.

“Thanks,” Shaw replied.

“Do you think it’s a good thing to compliment people on their clothes, or does it detract from them as individuals?” Gen inquired, having given the matter some thought.

Shaw looked at Gen, then at Root and then back at the youth, who was seriously waiting for an answer. “I think….I don’t know what I think,” Shaw said, feeling put on the spot.

“Think about it. We can come back to that,” Gen said, generously. “I have to ask Harold if I can see a copy of the Museum Board’s prospectus that shows where they’re spending the money,” she said, going back to talk to Harold.

* * *

“Well, I agree, you look beautiful,” Root said, taking Shaw by the elbow.

“Yeah, thanks. Listen, I am here as your bodyguard, you know, officially. So, I want to know what this Gregory Miller looks like and I don’t really want you out of my sight,” Shaw said, and with such conviction, Root felt all tingly.

“I like that ….very much,” Root all but giggled back. “Except ….,” she added and looked around. “Oh, there. Come with me,” she said, pulling Shaw by the hand. Shaw followed Root to the ladies room, where the CEO stopped outside the door. “Do me a favor?” she asked sweetly. “Don’t let anyone in?”

“You want …the whole bathroom….to yourself?” Shaw asked, as women came out of room.

“Almost,” Root answered cryptically and Shaw rolled her eyes and agreed. Root went in and two more women rushed out of the room, both commenting that they thought it was rude of that woman to rush them.

Shaw stood in front of the doorway, deterring women by announcing there was an issue inside. She came up with the only thing she could think of that would scare people. “Mice- lots of them,” she said and most women just moved on.

“They don’t scare me,” a woman said, thinking that would gain her access.

Shaw was surprised ….and interested. “Really? You’re not afraid ….of them….at all?”

The woman wasn’t, but she was a little nervous by someone wanting to ask her all kinds of questions about why she wasn’t.

* * *

Root had a very particular reason for wanting to be in the ladies room alone. Well, not completely alone, but rather with a particular person.

“Doctor Campbell?” Root called out and tapped on the stall. She had seen the woman walking this way and accurately assumed she was the only one left after kicking the other occupants out.

‘Oh, good God,” Iris uttered and swore she’d never use a public restroom again. “Ms. Groves?” she asked to make sure.

“Yes. Look, I don’t have much time,” Root explained as if that would excuse the intrusion. “Sameen is outside,” she added and Iris decided to be thankful for that.

“Could I…just…come out?” Iris asked, amazed at how two women, both lacking in the social grace of respecting one’s privacy, managed to find each other in the entire world.

“Yes, of course,” Root agreed, but then followed the woman right to the sink.

Iris took a deep breath, praying to the gods to remain professional. Apparently, they hadn’t heeded her call to not have people follow her into the bathroom, but perhaps they’d grant this. “What….,” and she stepped back to put a little room between her and her boss, “…can I do for you, Ms. Groves?”

“Look, I don’t want to tell you how to run things,” Root started and immediately Iris knew she was going to tell her how to do something.

“Good, because you realize I have a very strict code of ethics that I follow in my practice.” Iris thought she’d remind the world.

“Yes, of course,“ Root said – almost stunned that Iris would think she didn’t know that. Root liked Iris, which is why she was even going to ask her – “Do you mind if I speak frankly?”

“ _I prefer you speak in my office_ ,” is what Iris thought, but shook her head no.

“I wanted to thank you, for putting Sameen’s best interests first, in suggesting that she might need to come back in to talk to you. I think that worked brilliantly and she seems better that you guys talked,” Root began.

“You know that I cannot discuss …,” Iris was about to remind Root, but Root was one step ahead.

“Oh, no, I know and I would never want you to violate that confidentiality. I just ….I don’t want her to change,” Root said plainly.

“You …don’t want Ms. Shaw …to change?” Iris asked, to make sure she heard her right.

“Yes, she’s perfect, and I don’t want her to soften that fiery personality or lengthen her short temper, or change the way she acts like my insinuations annoy the life out of her,” Root said, listing only a fraction of the top things he loved about Shaw. Iris stared as her boss seemed to drift away in reverie as she spoke about Shaw.

“Talk therapy isn’t about changing people, Ms. Groves,” Iris said slowly. “It’s about helping people change the things they want to change.”

The thing Root liked about Iris was exactly the same thing Genrika liked about Root – they never spoke down to anyone.

“Okay, well, I’m glad we had this chat,” Root said, feeling better just getting that off her chest. Then Root looked in the mirror, dabbed the corner of her mouth, and thanked Iris again.

As soon as they opened to door, Shaw was standing there. Iris had no idea that she was actually guarding the door, and was afraid she was waiting for her.

“Thanks, Sweetie,” Root said to Shaw for not allowing any women intrude on her time with Iris.

The three women started to walk back into the large room where the gala was taking place, when Sameen decided to get something off her chest. She turned around so quickly, that Iris ran right into her.

“Look, doc, I know you probably have some rules about not dating your clients, right?” Shaw asked and Iris nodded her head, unsure of where this was going. “But you don’t have a rule regarding dating a patient’s friend, do you?”

“Well, it could be complicated to do so, Sameen,” Iris explained.

“Look, don’t tell him I said this, because I don’t want to give him the wrong idea and make him think I like him and all, but Lionel’s a great guy. He’s a wonderful dad and a good friend, if you take away all the annoying things he does,” Shaw spoke from her heart. “So, if you and he can’t date because of me, then I’d like to official resign as …what I can only imagine is …your favorite patient,” she added, ready to bit the bullet for her friend.

Iris had just managed to get Shaw to come back in; there was no way she was ever going to let her forgo that. “I’ll tell you want, Sameen,” Iris said – impressed with how Shaw was expressing her feelings – whether she knew it or not, “…Lionel and I are meeting here. We’ll see how it goes.”

“Okay,” Sameen said, satisfied for the moment. “Now, you’ll excuse me, I have to find a guy who tried to kill our boss.”

Iris didn’t think she should be surprised by anything that came out of these women’s mouths, but she was.

* * *

Sameen returned to Root’s side and stayed there, carefully watching anyone who approached her. She made Harold and Grace move so that John and Joss could sit next to Root on one side, while she sat to Root’s right. Gen asked Lionel if he would switch seats with her so she could sit next to Shaw.

“Sure, kid, no problem,” Lionel said, happy to switch seats because Gen had been sitting between Grace and Iris. “Just do me a favor. Don’t reach for any food if it’s front of your friend, Shaw there, okay?”

“You like her don’t you?” Gen asked the detective.

“Yeah, but don’t tell that, okay? Her head’s big enough as it is,” Lionel requested.

Gen sat down next to Sameen, and Grace watched as the child’s face lit up, the way a person’s does when they’re near a celebrity or idol.

“Are you doing it now?” Gen asked, excited because she had never seen a bodyguard on duty before.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, her eyes peeling the room, looking for the man she wanted to have a chat with.

“How do you decide?” Gen asked, buttering two rolls and putting one on Shaw’s plate.

“Decide what?” Shaw asked, shoving the roll in her mouth and thinking this was going to be the longest night of twenty questions.

“Decide if you’re going to be her bodyguard……or her girlfriend?” Gen asked, sliding her roll onto Shaw’s plate because the child knew how to keep Shaw talking.

“Now, I want to hear the answer to this one,” Root said, all smiles and handing a glass of iced water to Shaw when she choked.


	62. A Taste For Danger

John confirmed that Gregory Miller was a no-show, after speaking to the people in charge. He assured Shaw he would keep an eye out as he went to the bar to get Joss a wine.

Sameen sat between the two women in her life who asked the most questions. “What?” Shaw asked because she wasn’t really listening; she was busy scanning the room. Her gut was telling her something was off.

“When you’re out with Ms. Groves…,” Gen began and Root told her to call her – well, Root. “When you’re out with Root, do you feel like you’re her girlfriend first or her bodyguard first?” Gen rephrased the question.

“Oh, so you’re asking if Sameen reacts because we’re dating or is she doing her job?” Root asked because she found this kid fascinating.

“Right,” Gen said and motioned to Root to give her the bread basket. Root did, while thinking that answer over herself as Gen buttered another roll.

“Could you two possibly get a hobby other than me?” Shaw asked and both of them looked at each other and shook their heads at the same time. “Nah,” they both answered. Shaw rolled her eyes, found another roll on her plate and took it. “You’re like …separated at birth….by a lot of years…,” Sameen complained.

Gen was looking at Shaw very closely, in spite of the woman trying to stare her down.

“Kid must have nerves of steel not to be afraid of that,” Fusco said to Iris and then coughed when he realized who he said that to.

“How is school, Gen?” Root asked as the waiters started to serve the entrees.

“It’s okay, you know, for high school. The kids aren’t very friendly, but that’s okay,” Gen said. In spite of the advances in social patterns, adolescents still sized each other up by outward appearances and material possessions.

“Even at geeky schools?” Sameen asked because she thought they’d all band together.

“I think Shaw means highly advanced students,” Fusco said, from across the table.

“No, I meant geeks …like computer smart …like Frick and Frack here,” Sameen responded and Gen actually liked being paired with the brilliant CEO.

“Yeah,” Gen said and reached over to fist-bump Root.

Root knew something was up with Sameen because the large sirloin steak, which had been specially ordered for her, lay unnoticed on her plate.

“How come her steak is bigger than yours? Fusco asked John, when he returned, and then looked down at his. “It’s bigger than all of ours.”

Shaw was busy watching something that no one else had the keen eye to notice. There was a pattern to how the waiters were bringing out the food. They would carry a plate in each hand and place it down in front of the guest from the right. The waiter at Shaw’s table was mixing it up, which told her he was either not trained well, or he wasn’t really a waiter. Root had been too busy talking to eat anything before her entrée was served.

“Oh, I ordered the chicken,” Root corrected the waiter when he tried to give her the salmon and he apologized profusely. He went back to the station and grabbed the correct dish.

Everyone at the table hadn’t touched their food, being polite and waiting for Root to get served. Shaw watched the room, looking upstairs and then around the room.

Something was definitely wrong.

Shaw looked up at the balcony level, overlooking the large eating area. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Within seconds, she put the plan together. Not enough time to tell John. She had to act alone.

The waiter was placing the food down in front of Root when Shaw executed some very quick actions. She pushed the plate off the table with her left hand, sending it crashing to the floor.  Then, she reached under the table where her Glock was taped and grabbed it – and starting shooting at the shrubbery oddly placed on the balcony floor.  It's where she saw the light reflect off the scope on the rifle.

People screamed and ducked. Seconds after firing, Shaw pushed Gen down on her seat and then Root second to lean over the child. Shaw stood in front of them, shielding them both as she aimed and fired again.

“Stay here,” she instructed Root as she kicked off her shoes and told Reese to get the waiter, who was running outside.

Fusco and Carter were on their feet, both taking opposite ends of the room as Shaw ascended the stairs.

“Are you okay?” Root asked Gen, who was startled by how fast everything happened. Grace and Harold rushed to her side and Root took off …..after Shaw.

“What are you doing?” John asked his boss, as he kept an eye on where the waiter was running.

“You can give me a gun or I can go up there unarmed,” Root said and John knew he had to give her something. John tossed her a gun.

The throngs of people were running out of the room as Shaw got to the second landing and noted there was no way out except down the staircase she just came up. She walked quietly down a long hallway, searching for the gunman.

And while Root had the best of intentions – this is what separated her from Shaw. “Sameen, I’m coming,” Root yelled, armed and very dangerous.

Now, Shaw could have stood there waiting to lecture her girlfriend about the wrongfulness of her decision, or she could use it to her advantage – and save the speech for later. She chose the latter.

Root was more used to disarming people with her wits, than a gun. “If you hurt her, I promise – I will kill you,” she said, putting every single one of her cards on the table.

Shaw knew the gunman would now figure Root for a very easy target. And he would be right. Coming out from a small closet where he had been hiding, he now looked down the long hallway. At the other end, Root was approaching, gun in hand.

“Mr. Miller sends his regards,” the gunman said, before taking aim at his target.

Shaw kicked him behind the knee, the gun going off at the ceiling, and then hit him with the butt of her Glock. “I really wanted to shoot you,” she said, leaning down on him as he floated away into unconsciousness.

“You okay?” Joss said to Root and then noticed the gun. “See? I didn’t see that,” she said, John rushing to Root’s side and taking back the gun. “Crazy woman just rushed up the stairs,” Joss said as if she were already writing her report.

“Nice work, Shaw,” Lionel said, taking his cuffs out and putting them on the perpetrator.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, out of breath, but only a little.

Root rushed to her side. “Are you okay?” she asked, looking Shaw over to make sure.

“You and me,” Shaw said – and Fusco noticed the less than pleasant tone. “We’re gonna talk.”

There was something in Sameen’s tone that actually frightened Root a little. Of course, Root didn’t mind – she saw it as foreplay taken up a notch. “O…kay,” Root said, trying not to look like she just heard the sexiest thing ever.

* * *

Shaw walked back downstairs as uniform cops arrived and took the gunman off of Fusco’s hands. “My advice to you?” he said to Root because he knew how upset Shaw was. “Let her get it off her chest.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Root said, thinking the make-up sex would be incredible.

Most of the people were gathered outside the Museum as the two men were taken away in police cars. “We got cops going to pick up Gregory Miller right now,” Joss told John and Root.

“What were you thinking, Samantha?” Harold said because he was very concerned about Root being reckless. One look at the expression on Shaw’s face told the caring man that Root was going to have to answer for her actions.

Shaw was giving Fusco her gun and statement. She felt someone tugging at her arm. “I know what Root did upset you,” Gen said, having sized up the situation rather quickly.

“You don’t know the half of it, kid,” Shaw said, calmer than she had been.

“But I saw her. She was trying to protect you,” Gen relayed to Sameen.

“I don’t _need_ the protecting; I _do_ the protecting,” Shaw said, because her brain was on autopilot.

“I don’t think you get to choose when you’re in love,” Gen said, thinking about how both women had reacted instinctually.

“We’ll see about that,” Shaw threatened, looking over at Root.

Being the insightful, worldly kid Gen was, she saw both sides. But she really didn’t want her favorite couple in the entire world to break up. She had to think fast. She dug into her backpack that she had insisted on bringing because she was never without it. Then, she ran over to Root and pulled at her.  “Shaw is really, really upset,” she whispered. “You better take these; you might need them.” With that, Gen placed two candy bars in Root’s hand. “Text me if you need more,” the girl said, because she would explain to Harold and Grace that it was a dire emergency.

Root thanked her protégé and put the treats in her bag. When she looked over at Shaw, the woman was standing there – glaring at her.

“You better go,” Gen said, the way kids urge their friend who is in the most trouble.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Root assured her. “Sameen and I will talk about this like two rational adults.”

Gen looked right up at Root and scanned her face to make sure she was serious. 

" _So_ _not_ going to happen like that,” the girl murmured as she walked away; having given it the best shot she could.


	63. A Slice of Humble Pie

Sameen’s past experiences with people who defied an order had clear cut guidelines; if they weren’t dead, they were court martialed. On the flip side of the proverbial coin that kept tossing in her mind as she returned to Root’s apartment, was that she, herself, was one of the biggest rule breakers she knew.

She would have to leave that part out of the lecture she was writing in her head.

Root knew that Sameen was upset because of how stiffly she sat in the front seat of the limo, putting as much distance between them as she could. Root even understood why she was so upset; what she had done was foolish at best. She wanted Sameen to understand that she went rushing up there out of instinct; afraid Sameen was in danger.

She was going to have to tweak that part when she pleaded her case.

They walked in cold silence into the building and up in the elevator into the apartment. Even Bear, who came running out to greet them, slid on the floor when all four paws …..paused. Dogs have an innate sense of danger – and this brand was staring down at him hard. The only conclusion he could come to was – Root had chewed a favorite something of Shaw’s ….and ….peed on the floor.

Maybe……he could help.

“I don’t even know where to begin with you!” Sameen scolded, after pointing to the couch for Root to sit down.

Or maybe……. he couldn’t.

For now, he’d sit next to Root just in case the little one exploded.

“Sameen, I know….,” Root said, her leg bent under her as she sat there trying to look innocent, but not too innocent. Root was a genius, so it was safe to say, she had this figured out before they hit the cross-town traffic. Unfortunately, her body language was a little too relaxed for Sameen at the moment.

“You….. know?” Shaw stopped her, as she put one hand on her hip, the other on her forehead, and tried to go through her script. The words started to come and she stopped pacing. She looked down at Root, who now decided to sit with both feet on the floor. “You know … _nothing_. But, here’s what I know,” was Shaw’s opening lines. And then she continued. “From the weird way the waiter was acting, I _knew_ they probably tampered with your food. They brought you the wrong dish, so whatever they put on yours would have time to be absorbed into the meat. I knew by the reflection of the scope, what kind of rifle the gunman had. I _knew_ to push your plate away, and grab my Glock which I had placed there before anyone else arrived. Then, I _knew_ to pull the kid down first because she has a smaller body mass and I pulled you down next because, given her body mass, I _knew_ there was enough room for both of you behind me in a horizontal position. I _knew_ to tell you to stay there. I told you that, because I knew I had the situation under control. When I took the first shot, I _knew_ that the rifle was nicked and given the floor plan, which I memorized, I _knew_ there was nowhere for this guy to go but down. I _knew_ enough to tell Reese to get the waiter, because I _knew_ I could handle the lone gunman. I _knew_ exactly what type of guy uses a rifle like that and it’s not a good choice. So, I _knew_ he couldn’t be bright enough to have an escape route. And I even _knew_ the most important thing about this guy,” Shaw said, and then bent over at the waist and leaned in, “Do you _know_ what that was?” Shaw stopped and waited for Root to answer.

Bear’s eyes begged her – even if she knew the answer – not to give it. Root shook her head _no_ , even though she was more than willing to guess.

“I _knew_ ……he wasn’t counting on me.”

Root’s head was listening and agreeing with everything Shaw said. Her body, however, couldn’t get over just how hot Shaw was when she was this mad.

But then Shaw went in for the kill.

“And neither were you,” she said slowly and those words hit dead center.

Root’s brain scrambled, sending out the emergency message that Shaw was the deadly combination of angry, justified, and absolutely right. There was little overcoming that and even Bear got up now, and sat behind Shaw, as if declaring his change of allegiance.

“You’re…right,” Root uttered her wisely chosen words. “I …thought I could help, and I made it worse.”

Shaw had counted on the possible responses from Root because that’s what a good soldier does; they have the possible answers ready. She knew what she would say if Root tried to defend herself; she knew what she would say if Root tried to dismiss it; and she knew what she would do even if Root apologized. All of those possible answers still carried the same consequence – If Root didn’t trust her own bodyguard to know what was best in dangerous situations, then Shaw wasn’t the woman for the job.

Here’s what Shaw didn’t count on –

She was going to serve that ultimatum on a silver platter, along with a large cup of the ‘no i _f’s, and’s, or but’s_. And she was about to when Root looked up at her. Soft brown eyes filled with remorse met her hard glare. Root sucked in her lips, stuck out her chin, ready to take whatever came her way. That momentary lapse allowed the real reason Shaw was so upset – she was scared that Root had endangered herself – and the fear now erupted inside of Shaw. Looking into that angelic face that was waiting for Shaw to say something, was deflating Shaw’s anger. Instead, the fear rose up – and made Shaw change course.

Her arms flew out so fast that for a second, Bear was afraid he was going to have to get between them and he knew how that would go. Sameen’s hands grabbed Root’s forearms roughly and pulled her up to stand, as her anger jockeyed to stay in first place, but fear was quickly moving up and confusing Shaw’s speech.

“You ….,” she said, dark eyes narrowed on Root, “Could have gotten yourself killed!”

Root wondered why Sameen sounded a lot more forceful than just a few minutes ago.

The difference was now, Shaw’s heart was involved. “ _Oh, give up the lecture,_ ” Sameen’s brain signaled to her mouth – which opened, but nothing came out – until her heart spoke. “Then what would I have done, Root?” Shaw asked and pulled Root in to kiss her hard on the lips because she was afraid Root would talk.

Yeah, sure, that’s why she did it.

As fast as Shaw’s reflexes were in the heat of the moment, her synapses were slow when the moment held heat and she ran out of words. Root went from turned on to remorseful to …turned on in seconds. She knew which instinct to follow.

“God, you are so freaking hot when you’re saving my life,” Root said and waited to see if Shaw would kiss her again.

Even bodyguards like to get positive feedback. She pushed Root down hard on the soft couch and shook her head, a small smile finally appearing. Lecture time was over. She knew, once that wanton look appeared in Root’s eyes, she wouldn’t listen to another word.

“I’m not done with you,” Shaw tried to maintain her threat.

But, it was too late.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Root said, looking forward to turning Shaw’s words back on her.

“I mean it, Root. I’m still very upset with you,” Shaw said as Root’s hand’s traveled up her thighs, under her dress.

“Maybe you would feel better if you …disciplined me,” Root suggested seductively, pulling Shaw down to straddle her lap.

“I don’t think…,” Shaw said, sitting on Root’s legs, her arms around Root’s neck, “…you're supposed to give me ideas for your consequence. That’s not how this works,” Shaw said, arching an eyebrow.

“Oh, but I just want it to fit the crime, and you know,’ Root said trying to sound as innocent as she looked, “…I want it to be …..memorable.”

She then pulled Shaw up and pushed her down on the couch, putting her body weight on her to hold her place. “Maybe a good …,” Root was going to suggest when Shaw put her mouth on hers.

“Stop talking, Root,” Shaw demanded, and for once, Root listened.

Bear let out a long sigh as he wondered how come he never got off that easy.

Looking down into Shaw’s face now, Root’s libido slowed down while she apologized. “I’m really sorry, Sameen,” came the heartfelt apology.

“Okay,” Sameen said, pushing back Root’s soft long locks. “But you’re not getting off with just an apology.”

Root’s eyes lit up, thinking of course that Shaw was playing her game. “Oh, you say the hottest things,” she said, her eyes exploding in laughter.

“You’re not going to like it,” Shaw warned because she was thinking consequence, Root was thinking foreplay.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Root whispered, her imagination running wild.


	64. A Taste of One’s Own Medicine

Shaw was amazed at how many different ways Root hinted at what she really wanted. It wasn’t for that reason alone though that she wouldn’t satisfy Root’s desire to experience something more exhilarating that night. She was convinced Root had already forgotten the importance of why what she did was wrong.

Shaw was, however, a patient woman when it came to payback.

Root awoke the next morning, slightly disheartened, but not disappointed. Shaw may not have given her exactly what she wanted, but that didn’t detract from a blissful evening together. She mistook the slow torturous delay of gratification before relief as Shaw’s revenge.

Root was very mistaken.

* * *

There was no hint that next day of any aftermath, and Root assumed they had exhausted the subject of her misdoing, as they had exhausted each other. The genius understood behavior in code – and bad code was simply rewritten and corrected.  
Root was going to find out that Shaw didn’t quite see it that way.

When they awoke the next morning, Root placed no demands on Shaw to stay. Just because she wanted to be tied down, didn’t mean Shaw did. They went for a run in the park on Sameen’s insistence, then enjoyed a delicious breakfast and finally, settled in the living room to watch television.

Not one to watch sports, Root now sat sideways on the couch, simply gazing at Shaw as she ranted on and on about how badly her football team was playing. The question - “Did you see that play?” – suddenly took on new meaning for Root as it had nothing to do with Broadway shows. She suppressed her smiles because she quickly learned – there was nothing funny about your team misreading the signals. Sports were very serious business; at least to Shaw.

“Are you paying attention?” she asked, tired of having to explain the rules.

“Oh, yes,” Root said, but her head wasn’t facing the screen. She didn’t mind the touch of Shaw’s hand on her chin, forcing her to face the direction of the game. Within seconds though, Root’s gaze returned to staring at the woman who was practically leaping out of her seat at something called a fumble.

Shaw liked watching sports with people who shared her passion. So, she usually was with Fusco in a bar, where it was perfectly acceptable to yell when your team did well, and taunt the fans of the losing team. Now, she was sitting in a Penthouse apartment, staring at the biggest screen she had ever seen, with someone who knew little about the sport. Shaw took this as one of the things you do in a relationship; painful as it might be.

“Oh! I want to show you something,” Root said, all excited and only when it was half-time. This was the sacred few minutes for real sports fans that were used for only two things; bathroom breaks and refilling the snack bowls.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Shaw said, obeying the half-time rules.

As soon as she emerged though, Root grabbed her hand and pulled her upstairs and down a long hallway, until they stood outside a room with a special keypad. “Go ahead, put your eye up to the screen,” Root said, with the thrill of someone waiting for their lover to open up the perfect gift.

“Root, I have to …,” Shaw said, but sighed and gave in because she knew what Root would be like if she didn’t go along. Shaw placed her face in the right spot, a scan read her visual measurements, and the lock beeped opened. Root urged her to go through the door. When Sameen stepped inside, she saw that the large room was decorated with state–of-the-art gun racks and cases. It was about half the size of her entire apartment downtown. Shaw ran her hand along the dark wood case with glass. “What is this?”

“It’s for your guns,” Root said, looking around, quire proud of the job she had commissioned.

“You’re asking …my guns…to move in?” Shaw asked in a mix of sarcasm and apprehension.

Root was ready. “No, silly, I’m …suggesting ….you put some of your guns here for safekeeping and because I know you like to play with them …when you’re not playing with ….”

“Your point, Root?” Shaw interrupted her. Sameen worried this was the part of the relationship where Root went off on a different trajectory and ordered monogramed towels.

Root had been studying Shaw and knew there were definite ways to her heart. Food was the easy one, but she watched Sameen’s face when she did different things. Root watched the look of serenity and peace that often appeared on Shaw’s face as she was dismantling and reassembling her weapons. It was like Shaw’s version of yoga.

“My point, Sameen, is that as much as I enjoy your hands running over parts of me, I know you miss being able to do …that….stuff…you do with your guns,” Root explained and her hands made twisting motions to indicate what Shaw did to take them apart.

Just because Root could handle a gun, didn’t mean she understood the mechanisms of them ….yet.

“You’re not expecting me to move in though, right?” Shaw put it all out there.

“No!” Root lied and didn’t look Shaw in the face.

“So, if I’m not moving here, why would I move my guns here?” Shaw asked because it didn’t make sense.

Root hadn’t figured this all out because the room was, after all, an impulsive move. “I…it’s …for when….you’re here,” Root said, looking around hoping to tempt Shaw with the fine craftsmanship of the room. “you like to …clean them, right?”

Shaw was impressed, and she was already visualizing her Glock in pieces on the long table set up for just that. “Well, here’s what I am thinking,” she said and Root was all ears. “I think I should give you some lessons,” Shaw said and quickly clarified – “…..with guns,” because Root’s eyes were already twinkling at the long list she was making up of lessons. “I could bring some up here and we could go to a range where I could get you properly trained.”

That phrase made Root drift away in a reverie of what her interpretation of that could be.

“Root? Root!” Sameen called her repeatedly, rolling her eyes at how easily the woman’s mind slipped to the seductive.

“You’re going to give me lessons …..proper….lessons…,” Root said, and couldn’t finish the sentence because she was smiling too hard.

“And I’m the one going to see the shrink!” Shaw complained as if it were unfair. “You sure the dog won’t get jealous that you’re giving me a room?” Sameen asked, looking around, the resistance wearing down.

“We won’t mention it,” Root said – and meant it. “So, you’ll bring some of your guns…here?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sameen responded. “Can we go back…?”

Sameen saw this as one of Root’s annoying, but thoughtful, ways and accepted it. Root saw it as another effort to chip away at Sameen’s suit of resistance. Now, all she could think about was Shaw giving her firearm lessons – Shaw’s hands wrapped around hers as she….. fingered the weapon.

Root wasn’t even sure she would be able to stand after that thought gelled in her mind. It actually took her a minute to come back to earth and not sway as she walked.

* * *

Shaw returned to the game just as the second half started and Root resumed her careful watching and learning. “How many downs?” Shaw asked, sipping a beer.

“Five, no four,” Root answered quickly.

“Okay, good,” Shaw said, having repeated it several times and glad Root finally got it.

“Downs are like chances,” Root said, wanting to engage Shaw. “If they’re moving down the field, they get more than four, but if they don’t complete the passes, they only get four.” The broad smile on Root’s face that she understood was met with Shaw’s stare.

“Right,” Sameen responded.

The second half brought a downward spiral for Shaw’s team, who didn’t play well at all. It also brought a barrage of questions, because Root wanted to understand why she was upset. “They’re losing. That’s all you need to know,” Shaw summed up angrily.

Root cast a sideways glance to Bear. Even he knew to make himself scarce.

* * *

Shaw left after dinner to return to her apartment. Root would have willingly gone with her, but wasn’t asked. Sameen said she would return with her cache of firearms later that night. Root kept herself busy with organizing her schedule for the next day. She was going to be quite occupied and that meant her bodyguard would be alongside her all day.

When Sameen returned to her loft, the unsettling feeling greeted her at the door. She was beginning to get the sense that she didn’t belong there. “This is ridiculous,” she told her self – out loud – and repeatedly, as she grabbed a satchel and put some of her firearms in there. “I just need them – to teach her,” she said convincingly. “Then, I’ll …you know….bring them back here,” she said, looking around, as if assuring the sparse furniture. It sounded like a solid case to make to Shaw.

The mouse, which was hiding out of sight, didn’t buy it, by the way.

* * *

Sameen returned to the Penthouse hours later, and proceeded to put three guns in the weaponry room. Root didn’t go up with her – in order to give Sameen the space she’d need to feel comfortable with this. It worked perfectly. In Shaw’s mind, she was keeping a few things there so she could teach Root how to use a gun. In Root’s mind, Sameen was taking a big leap forward.

“It means something for sure,” Root decided.

“This means …nothing,” Shaw was trying to convince herself.

Then, Shaw saw it. Now on hyper alert to any misinterpretation of her actions, Shaw was certain this was one of them. Root was getting them matching clothes.

Shaw stormed over to the article in question. She looked down at them in horror. “I …am….no! Not wearing them,” Shaw blurted out when she saw Root wearing hers, the other pair in the opened box.

Root wiggled her toes in the fluffy, pink eared bunny slippers. “Oh, silly! Those aren’t for you,” Root explained and called Bear over and put the box in front of his mouth so he could retrieve them. “He was upset about ….,” she shared, casting her eyes upstairs to the room.

“Oh,” Shaw said, seeing how Root was trying to suppress the laugh at her reaction to the white bunny slippers.

It didn’t even dawn on Shaw that she completely understood that the jealous dog just got the consolation prize.

* * *

The next morning, the couple got ready for work. Shaw enjoyed the sumptuous breakfast made by the chef, Isabelle, while Root got dressed for work.

“We have a busy day,” Root called as Sameen shoved the last of the Belgium waffle in her mouth. The two rushed onto the elevator; both anxious to start their day.

“If we break up, I’m taking her,” Shaw said of the cook. “And Bear; I might take Bear,” she added and the dog was jumping around because he didn’t know if he was happy or worried.

“Don’t make him anxious before his therapy visit,” Root whispered as the dog went into a tailspin over what he would do if that happened.

“What? Are you telling me he sits on the same couch as I do?” Shaw asked perturbed.

“No, silly,” Root said, pushing her shoulder into Shaw’s. “Dr. Campbell isn’t a specialist.”

Shaw frowned as she tried to figure out if Root meant the canine was going to a better therapist.

“Well, I’m definitely taking the chef then,” Shaw whispered.

“We’d have to negotiate,” Root said, moving into Shaw’s space and annoying her by playing with the stray strands of Shaw’s hair. “And you should know, I excel at business negotiations. You might just be in for a surprise,” Root teased.

“ _Not bigger than the one you’re in for_ ,” Shaw mumbled and Root didn’t hear her.

* * *

As soon as they arrived at BEAR, Root began telling Shaw all about her itinerary for the day. Shaw accompanied Root to her office, where Sameen kept looking at her watch.

“Anxious to spend the day alongside me?” Root cooed.

“Anxious for you to learn your lesson,” Shaw said and much to Root’s dismay, there was nothing playful about her tone.

Root was an expert, though, at turning Shaw’s words around. “And what, Ms. Shaw, are you going to teach me today?” The smiled appeared on Root – head to toe.

Just then, Martine appeared in Root’s office, summoned there by her good coworker.

“I’m going to teach you – that if you do not trust me to be your bodyguard, then you might want to try using another one,” Shaw all but smiled and handed the schedule to Martine.

Root frowned as she tried to put this together. She immediately tried to protest, but Sameen wasn’t listening.

“Now, Ms. Groves has a full day, so you better get started,” Shaw was instructing Martine. “And make sure you don’t leave her side,” she said, turning to look back and Root.

That smirk told Root everything she needed to know. This whole thing was planned and Sameen never said a word. Root tried to think how many things she could cancel, but Shaw was already pushing her out of the office, telling her what a busy day she had ahead.

“Remember, stay right with her,” she said to a very enthusiastic Martine who was thrilled to fill in for Shaw today.

“Oh, not to worry, Shaw, I won’t leave her side,” Martine all but saluted Sameen.  "Hey, I hope you're feeling better," she added because that's the excuse Sameen used.

"Oh, I'm feeling better already,"  Shaw smirked and gave Root the slowest wink of her eye, as Martine escorted Root onto the elevator. “Be good,” she said as the doors closed.

Root shook her head. “She’s good,” she admitted out loud, more impressed and less annoyed at Sameen.

“I hope you’re okay with this arrangement,” Martine asked because everyone knew how Root preferred Shaw.

“Oh yes, Ms. Rousseau,” Root said, planning on all the different ways she would beg Shaw for her forgiveness later.


	65. The Many Flavors of Karma

Shaw was almost as proud of pulling Root’s punishment off, as she was at capturing the crazy hitman. “Now, that was sweet,” she congratulated herself as she made her way to the dining area for a well-deserved breakfast…second breakfast. With Root out of the office, Sameen’s day was totally freed up. All she had to do – was keep her head down and stay out of John’s way.

Root was impressed with how sneaky Sameen had been, but her tolerance for the punishment was wearing thin. Martine was overzealous in her duties and Root was beginning to suspect, it was less about watching out for her and more about impressing Shaw. “Please step back!” Martine barked at people who snapped pictures of Root or approached to say hello. Root was beginning to think the punishment was going to exceed the crime by hours.

Fusco was the first to see Shaw sneaking down the hallway, trying to get to her mid-morning meal. He came right up behind her and, if Shaw ever admitted to being surprised, it might have been now. “Boo,” he said and she stopped.

“Why is it you never jump? What is it about you?” he asked, amazed that she never appeared startled.

“I told you, Lionel,” she yelled in a quiet voice, “I don’t do ….surprised,” she explained for the umpteenth time and hit his arm.

“Glad to see that anger management therapy is working, Shaw,” he said, rubbing his arm.

“Do you want me to ask Harold why he hasn’t just given you an office here?” she asked, looking around to make sure no one spotted her.

“Who are you avoiding?” he asked, looking around, too, now.

“Reese, Harold, anyone who can give me a lame job to do. I got a day off,” Sameen graciously took the time to explain.

“And you’re spending the day off at the office?” Fusco pointed out.

Shaw closed her eyes and pursed her lips. “Do you want breakfast?” she asked and when Lionel said he was there on official duty, but yeah, he could have a bite, they proceeded to the employee dining area.

* * *

Martine was a combination of hyper bodyguard, fanatical employee, and neurotic mother, “Is that coffee the right temperature? Shaw told me to check to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Did you want a pad and pen at this meeting because Shaw told me you like to take notes,” were just some of the obsessive inquires Martine made at rapid fire. Root was very patient with her substitute bodyguard because she knew Sameen had set the woman up to over compensate. More than once, Root thought of texting Sameen and telling her that two could play this game, but then she remembered – Shaw didn’t think this was a game at all. No, she’d accept her consequence like an adult – and grovel later.

* * *

“So you set her up with the other bodyguard? The crazy one?” Fusco asked when Sameen explained why she was free that day.

“She went running upstairs with a gun, Fusco! She could have gotten herself killed,” Shaw yelled to make him understand.

“Oh yeah, speaking of which,” he said, remembering the reason he was there, “This belongs to you.” He returned Shaw’s firearm from evidence.

Shaw took the Glock and ran her hand over it. “You’re going in the new weapons room,” she said and then shuddered.

“See?” Fusco said, putting his fork down. “You just did startle. What do you mean ...new weapons room?”

Sameen could have shot herself for divulging that. “Nothing,” she said, but Fusco was eating and had plenty of time not to let her off the hook.

“What did that mean?” he pushed.

Sameen rolled her eyes, looked around to make sure no one was listening and leaned forward. “If I tell you, you can’t say anything. And remember – I can load this thing and shoot it before you push your chair back.”

“You say the nicest things, Shaw,” Fusco said. “Spill.”

“Rootgotmeaweaponsroomatherpenthouse,” Shaw mumbled as the napkin covered her mouth.

It took Lionel a minute, but he eventually got it. And he also understood his friend wasn’t so confident about it. Which is why he was going to tease her.

That was the Shaw-Fusco friendship at its finest.

“So, let me see if I got this,” Lionel starting and Shaw groaned out loud because it was payback for making fun of his new trophy case. “You made fun when I put my Yankees’ memorabilia in the china closet, but Fruity Pebbles asks your guns to move in, and I’m not supposed to make fun of that?” he laughed louder than was necessary. Shaw had been her usual merciless self when she saw the glass shelves filled with baseballs and bobble heads and other fan collectibles.

“Would you be quiet?” Shaw demanded, drawing more attention that Fusco had. “Stop ruining my day off!’

“How come you’re not in your gun room on your day off?” Lionel asked and was serious.

Shaw bit her lip for even sharing this with Lionel, but felt compelled to answer his questions anyway. “I only took three weapons up there,” she said softly.

“I couldn’t hear you,” Lionel said and meant it.

“You are killing me here. I only took up three,” she said louder, again causing people to look over at her. Shaw apparently had little volume control on her voice.

“So, you moving in?” was the next logical question her good friend asked.

“No, I’m not moving in,” Shaw said in a mocking tone and sincerely couldn’t get her head around how he could make that conclusion.

“So, just your guns are,” Lionel said and pulled back before Shaw could strike him. “You know, hitting an officer of the NYPD is an offense.”

“Not if it’s you,” Shaw countered.

“Well, seeing how I can’t finagle my way out of work, I guess I better get back to it,” Lionel said and thanked Shaw for breakfast. “Let me know if I can get your guns a housewarming gift.”

Shaw shoved more food in her mouth and stammered out loud that - moving her guns into the weapon room was not the same thing as Lionel displaying his balls in the china closet.

It was only after those words were out of her mouth, did she realize how poorly they were worded. Pairs of eyes stared at her as people stopped mid-bite to look. “That’s ….not…..baseballs. He has …,” she stuttered and then told them – “Never mind.”

* * *

In the meantime – Root’s day wasn’t going much better.

For the first time in her career, Root was having trouble closing a deal. It was almost as if she was more distracted by not having her biggest distraction with her. When Martine noticed her boss unable to complete a thought, she sprang into action. Rising from the chair she insisted on sitting in behind Root, she now leaned down into her boss’ ear and asked: “You’re not using your favorite pen,” the woman whispered in her ear. “Shaw says you like to have your favorite pen in big meetings,” she added and opened the pen case to produce the pen Shaw picked out as the prop.

“Sameen gave that to you?” Root asked, not caring that the entire room was waiting for her answer.

“She said it was your favorite,” Martine answered.

Root smiled to think that not only had Shaw set up Martine as her payback, she was going to make sure the retribution lasted all day. “It is now,” Root said, because just thinking that Shaw picked out the pen made it her favorite. She also decided to get through the meeting so that she could get back to her office and Shaw. Not in that order.  
Martine sat back down, happy to have been of service to her boss …and Shaw.

Years of learning mediation taught Root to embrace the moment, go with the flow of the situation you find yourself in, and use your time wisely to plan your next move. Occupying her mind with thoughts of Shaw was the best way for Root to respond.

Of course, she didn’t know what Shaw had in store for her afternoon. If Shaw was going to drive a point home, it was going to be a grand slam.

* * *

Shaw was experiencing her own grand slam…. the one Taylor Carter made to bring the team all the way from the playoffs to the Championship Game. Shaw was walking back to her desk when she heard John talking about it.

“I knew you were a natural,” Shaw said, taking the credit for that match. “You’re taller than most people and you’re annoying as hell. These qualities make a great coach.”

“I got to hand it to you, Shaw,” Reese said, surprised at how much he was enjoying coaching, “….at first all I could think about was the ways I was going to get even. But now, I have to thank you,” John said, willing to give credit where it was due, but not before he paid Shaw back.

Shaw flopped down in her chair in her cubicle, saluting John and telling him – “It’s a gift I have, so don’t mention it.”

“And thanks for covering for me,” he added.

“Oh, the dog’s bath? Piece of cake, Reese,” Shaw said, not wanting him to have the satisfaction.

Just then, a rather nerdish, nervous sort of man walked down the aisle, inquiring where ‘ _Sameen Shaw’_ sat.

Janine recognized him immediately and demanded to know what business he had with Shaw. “It’s very important that I speak to her,” he said to the woman who was Shaw’s self-appointed secretary.

“What did you do now, Shaw?” John asked because he recognized the man.

Shaw pushed her feet against her desk and propelled her chair out of the cubicle so she could see who was asking for her. “Who the hell is he?” she asked of her nervous guy who was demanding to speak to her. “I could snap this guy like a twig,” Sameen admitted to Reese.

“Oh, it’s not him you have to worry about. It’s …what he writes in his reports,” Reese said and he was serious.

“What is he, the health inspector?” Shaw asked, and shoved two fingers in her mouth and whistled to get the man’s attention. “You want to see me?” she asked, not getting up.

Reese watched as the man turned and started to march towards them. “Good luck getting out of this one, Shaw,” he said as he walked away.

“Are you Sameen Shaw?” the man asked curtly.

Shaw looked the man up and down, trying to imagine what his beef could be with her.

“Yeah,” she answered. “And you are …”

“We need to talk,” he insisted and looked around for a private area.

“You can use this conference room,” Janine answered and the man started to walk over to it in a hurry. He snapped …. _read that again_ ….. his fingers for Shaw to follow quickly.

Shaw stood up and stopped in her tracks when he did that. “You know I’m a bodyguard, right? And I’m armed? And seriously dangerous?” she shouted at him.

“I wouldn’t say that to him,” Janine tried to warn her idol.

“Who the hell is that guy?” Shaw finally demanded to know.

“That’s Bear’s therapist,” Janine explained in a whisper.

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!” Shaw yelled and the man was beginning to understand what the problem was.

Shaw threw her hands up in the air and walked in. “Did he tell on me?” she asked in all seriousness. “Is this because of the gun room?” she continued her inquiry. “What is it? He realized he got the slippers and I got the room?” she laughed and then met the frown on the man who asked her to be seated.

Janine took the seat next to Shaw, even though no one asked her to join them.

“Ms. Shaw, my name is Dr. Walter Nelson,” the man introduced himself. “I am Bear’s therapist.”

“Oh, this is insane,” Shaw uttered and looked at the HR staff member, who sat listening attentively.

“I have been seeing Bear for some time now, Ms. Shaw, and I can tell you, in all that time, I have never seen him so upset,” the man shared.

Shaw turned her head, waiting for Reese to jump out…okay, _walk_ out, and say “Gotcha!” because this had to be a joke. “When I said I was armed, I meant….. with a gun. Just so we’re clear here,” Shaw growled.

“This is exactly what I suspected was the problem,” the man said.

“Maybe we should ixnay the gun talk,” Janine coughed into her hand.

“What ….is your job? You’re a shrink….. for the dog?” Shaw asked, getting annoyed that this joke wasn’t over.

Oh, it was far from over.

“I have a PhD in animal behavior, Ms. Shaw,” the man said offended. “I work with Bear to improve his behavioral concerns.”

“See? Right there,” Shaw said, “…you work WITH Bear about HIS concerns. See that? That’s just messed up.”

“I believe that the behavior Bear exhibited today was due to being around an aggressive individual, Ms. Shaw. And I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that person was you,” the behaviorist declared.

“Oh, oh,” Janine uttered and moved her chair back.

“No!” Shaw said, getting up from the chair. “I am not going to ask. I don’t want to know,” she spoke to herself. But she caved because she was worried about the dog – if only for being with this guy. She bit her tongue, but it didn’t work. “What behavior?” she said, her eyes closed to hide her embarrassment for being dragged into this.

“He was very anxious,” the man stated.

“He’s… a….. _neurotic_ ……. dog!” Shaw yelled back and the man jumped.

“I am beginning to understand why he is exhibiting these behaviors,” the man said, putting a little more distance between him and the angry woman.

“Oh, not good,” Janine said to herself, but everyone heard the words come out of her mouth.

“So, you’re blaming me? You’re saying that ….that….I make him nervous?” Shaw asked insulted.

“I am suggesting that ….it is your ….ang…,” and he stopped when Sameen leaned over the table at him, “…..temperament that might be affecting him. “Ms. Shaw, did you say anything to him today?” he asked, taking his glasses off to clean them, but really to prevent him seeing the anger on Shaw’s face.

“Yeah, I told him I didn’t think his team was going to make the playoffs this year,” Shaw yelled. “Take it a little hard, did he? Maybe you could work with him….on his sense of humor!”

“I don’t think Bear would understand that, Ms. Shaw,” the therapist answered seriously. “Did you say anything that would have significance to him?”

Shaw put her head down and banged it lightly on the table. The action – oddly enough, made something come to mind. “Oh, my God,” Shaw said scrunching up her face, “….I …uhm…told him if…anything …..happened with……that I would take him with me,” Shaw said, her chest tightening at the sharing even the tiniest bits of that conversation.

“What?” Janine asked, because she didn’t quite get all of that and was very interested.

“You threatened to take him from Ms. Groves?” the therapist asked for clarification.

“I didn’t …threaten; I …was…suggesting,” Shaw said, defensively, getting out of her seat again.

“Well, this all makes sense now,” Walter said very pleased with himself.

Janine hated to see her hero get so upset, but she was worried about Bear, too. “Maybe she could …apologize?”

“Are you insane?” Shaw barked at the woman.

“It worked for me when you took my clothes,” Janine explained.

“Because …..you …..are …..a ……HUMAN!” Shaw yelled and sat back down.

This was like the worst amusement ride Sameen had ever been on and she just wanted it to stop. “I’ll apologize,” she said, thinking this was her _get-out-of-jail-free_ card.

“I think we need to assure Bear that you would never take him without his consent,” the man decided.

Shaw just tried to get her head around those words, but the open mouthed expression on her face was a clear indication that there was a struggle going on.

“Make sure she’s at his session this afternoon,” the therapist instructed Janine, whom he assumed was there for Shaw’s benefit.

“I’ll make sure,” the would-be secretary guaranteed him.

Feeling like she was sinking into the insanity sandpit, Shaw got up and went back to her desk.

* * *

Iris, who refused to use the company ladies rooms anymore, and went across the street to Starbucks for the sole purpose of using their restroom, was on her way back, when she saw her favorite patient.  “Sameen, are you okay?” the therapist asked because she could tell something was wrong.

“You would tell me if I was insane, wouldn’t you, Doc?” Shaw asked. “Although, how would you know. The entire building is filled with crazy people.”

“Sameen, can you come in this afternoon, so we can talk?” Iris suggested.

“Before or after I have a play date with Bear?” Shaw asked sardonically.

Iris decided after that - might be better, because Shaw was ranting about how she had to apologize to the dog.

* * *

A few miles uptown, Root interrupted the meeting to look at a text. Feeling confident that the deal was done, and very much in her favor, she adjourned the meeting. There was a round of handshakes as both sides agreed to move forward.

“We have to go back to the office,” Root said as she hurried to the elevator.

“Is everything okay?” Martine asked concerned.

“I don’t think so,” Root said and showed the new bodyguard her phone.

Martine looked down to see the sad face emoticon with the tear falling. “Shaw?” she asked worried.

“Bear,” Root answered and rushed out to her waiting car. “He’s very upset.”


	66. Bear's Bone to Pick With Shaw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N thank you for 'bearing' with me as I went off on a silly tangent.  
> It really is to demonstrate just how far Shaw has come in all of this.

Shaw paced the hallway trying to decide how to inform Root. It was one thing to break your girlfriend’s favorite coffee mug; it was quite another to break her dog. Sameen sucked in her breath and walked in to Walter’s office. The stiff slender man greeted her in a friendlier manner than he had before. There, in the corner of the inner office, Bear was lying down and didn’t jump up when Sameen walked in. He did pick his head up, once -sighed, and put it back down.

“Wow, he’s really holding onto that grudge,” Shaw whispered to the behaviorist.

“He’s very upset,” the man corrected her and reminded Sameen she was on the dog’s turf now.

“I don’t even know what that means,” she grumbled as she approached Bear. She started to talk to him in that high voice people use when talking to animals, but he wouldn’t look at her. “Could you give …us a minute here?” Shaw requested.

The man hesitated because he was afraid the angry woman would upset the dog further. “Will you promise to speak calmly to him?” he asked.

Shaw’s shoulders dropped in resignation that she had to dignify that question with a response. “Yes,” she answered.

“I’ll be right outside,” he said and she thought he said it to her until she noticed he was looking at Bear.

* * *

 Root wasted no time getting back to Bear. Having taught the intelligent animal to press his nose on the touch screen with pictures, he selected the sad emoticon. Janine informed Root as soon as she got there what happened. “He yelled at her?” she asked of the therapist who was about to lose his job. Now, she was worried about Shaw. She marched down to the office.

“I just love them so much,” Janine sighed under the harsh glare of Martine.

Walter gave Root his update and explained how anxious Bear was that morning and now he seemed very lethargic. “I’ll deal with you later,” she snarled at the man who had spoken harshly to Sameen.  
Then, she listened at the door as Shaw tried to speak to Bear inside. “Come on, buddy. You know I would never take you – take you,” Shaw assured him.

Root smiled to think how caring Sameen was being with Bear. She walked into the inner office and assessed the situation.

Shaw jumped up when Root entered. “Oh, Root …. I am so sorry. I think …I don’t know how,” Sameen said, obviously upset as she ran her hand through her long dark locks. “I broke him.”

Root didn’t say a word, but looked over at the dog that wouldn’t look at her. “Ben we je van streek?” she asked in his native language to inquire if they had upset him.

Bear whimpered, but wouldn’t look.

“What did he say?” Shaw asked, with great worry.

“He won’t talk,” Root said and meant the dog wasn’t communicating anything definite.

“What can we do?” Shaw asked and Root noticed how worried she was. “That therapist thinks it’s something I did. Then, I …remembered this morning I ….said ….if...we broke up….,” Shaw whispered, “I would take him.”

“Oh, that’s true,” Root said, wondering if the dog feared being forced to choose. “He has separation anxiety.”

“You didn’t tell me that!” Shaw complained, throwing her head back in guilt.

Root looked at Shaw, the first time she could ever remember seeing the woman even remotely nervous. She was truly concerned about Bear. Root didn’t think she could fall any harder in love with this woman, but it was happening right there and then.

“Well, if that really is the reason for his behavior, I can think of one thing we can try, to put his mind at ease,” Root said, a smirk on her face and her eyes twinkling.

Shaw’s head snapped to look at Root. She stared at her and frowned. “You want…to …us…here?” she asked in disbelief.

Root bit her lip not to laugh. “Yummy as that sounds, Sameen, I thought we could try something a little more subtle,” Root said, completely thrilled that she managed to make Shaw’s mind go somewhere else.

“Oh, right,” Shaw said, slightly embarrassed. “Okay. So……, Root, how was your day?” Sameen said, in an exaggerated, friendly tone.

“Close,” Root said, assessing Shaw’s first try.

Bear didn’t think so. He didn’t move. Root also knew the dog would be able to tell a staged attempt, versus a spontaneous act. In other words, Shaw was trying too hard.

“You know, I understand why you made Martine come with me today,” Root said, segueing into that and annoying Shaw.

“What? Oh, yeah, well I told you why I did that, so it wouldn’t take a genius,” Shaw whispered, her eyes locked on the dog.

“Yes, but I think …someone…mistook that as our separating,” Root put together. “He thinks we’re not okay.”

“I told him all that,” Shaw said, throwing her hands up. “I told him I was kidding and that we weren’t breaking up and I was joking when I said I was taking….you know,” Shaw explained, jerking her head towards Bear.

“Maybe he sensed you were angry with me?” Root thought out loud.

“I wasn’t angry, Root,” Shaw said, now looking at the woman. “Okay, yes, I was angry. But I was also worried….and scared,” the woman who never did feelings admitted out loud. “You rushed up those stairs without assessing the danger,” Shaw explained. “I felt all those things; I…just do angry better,” she said in a low tone, hoping the canine with excellent hearing, wouldn’t hear.

Standing next to each other, Root stared down into the pools that reflected those feelings.

Shaw’s emotions – now labeled and spoken –rushed at her. “Dammit, Root,” Shaw complained, but her eyes were locked on the taller woman. “Why …do you….always….make me get……,” and she was going to say….. _in touch with my feelings_ , but she decided there had been enough talking. Instead, she lunged at Root and kissed her, her lips locking onto Root’s as she pulled her head down and held onto her jaw.

Electricity shot through Root at the spontaneous declaration of affection. Root understood what Sameen was saying – _Nothing ever made her feeling anything_ – except Root.

Root wasn’t the only one who got it.

Bear jumped up, life pumped back into him by the sight of seeing his favorite people kissing. He may not have quite understood what the mouth on mouth action meant, but he knew it was something they enjoyed – together.

He ran over in between them and pushed at their hands. It was time to pay attention to him. Shaw and Root erupted into laughter as the dog now commanded their moves. They grabbed him and hugged him and petted his head. He, in turn, wagged his tail and licked Root’s hand. Then, he put his mouth on Shaw’s ankle – hoping this time she’d understand he was not fooling.

“I think he’s trying to tell me something,” Shaw said, certain that the gesture was on purpose.

“He’s playing,” Root tried to convince her, but she had to admit, he had only done that with Shaw. “I think.”

“Okay, well it’s not cute anymore,” Shaw whispered, afraid of setting the dog back. “I can’t believe I’m whispering to spare his feelings!”

“Give him a little time,” Root pleaded as she leaned in to kiss Sameen. She was happy the dog was back to his usual self.

Root opened the door as they proceeded to walk out; Shaw impaired by the dog she was dragging along with her. “I can’t walk around all day with him attached to my leg,” she pointed out, but Root and the therapist were talking.

A stern arched eyebrow from Root and the man was apologizing to Shaw, explaining that he was quite worried because he had never seen Bear behave that way before.

“Well, we finally figured out what he needed,” Root said, triumphantly.

The man smiled, looking down at the dog that had not let go of Sameen. “This is an interesting display of alpha dog behavior,” the man decided.

“This is a display of being a pain in the ass!” Shaw said, trying to shake the dog off gently, but not being able to do it.

Walter put his finger to his chin and tapped it. “I think we should do a scientific paper on this,” he suggested to Root, and then turned to Shaw. “He’s testing you.”

“It runs in his family,” Shaw said, because Root had tried her patience at the gala the night before.

* * *

 The news of Bear’s mood spread through the office like wildfire. When Root emerged from the behaviorist’s office, people who had gathered expressed their concern.

“Is he okay?” Harold asked first, having been summoned by Janine.

Root took a deep breath and announced the much awaited news that Bear was going to be just fine. The crowd erupted into applause. _But where was he?_ \- was the collective thought.

Just then, Shaw emerged from the office with a very odd gait – thanks to Bear who had decided not to let go just yet.

“What did you do, Shaw?” John asked and tried to tempt the dog to release her.

“You see that?” Shaw bellowed defensively. “Why do you assume it’s my fault? He’s around _my_ ankle,” she pointed out, but it was easy to tell most of the staff members were casting doubts. “I cannot believe this!” Shaw said, trying to stare the dog off her body.

“Bear, kom!” John said authoritatively and the dog finally responded. He was also thirsty and John was holding a bottle of water. “Wat heeft ze met je gedaan?” John inquired, asking what _she did to him._

As happy as Shaw was to be released, she was not happy it was Reese who got the dog to let her go. “Not cool,” she said to the dog as the crowd dispersed. Then she looked down at her own ankle to see Janine, pulling the pants leg up and applying the ice pack on the injury.

Root coughed and Janine understood that to mean she should leave. Alone in the hallway now, Shaw annoyed that she was the bad guy in all of this, Root figured out a way to help.

“It would seem we’ve both had our egos wounded today,” Root said, playing with Shaw’s hair as she bent over and ripped the ice pack off. When Sameen stood up to protest that these were two different situations completely, Root leaned in closer before she could speak and whispered – “I’ll doctor your wounds, if you doctor mine.”

Shaw found the phrasing unusual. “I think you mean – lick your wounds,” Shaw corrected her on the saying.

“That’s an even better idea,” Root smiled a Cheshire like grin; catching Shaw, once again, in her verbal web.

Knowing that Sameen was thrown off kilter by the events of the day, Root didn’t want to skip over the importance of what happened. “I want us to have dinner tonight,” she said to Shaw. “I want to apologize for messing things up last night. You were right to be upset with me.”

Shaw was better at arguing than she was at accepting sincere expressions of regret. “You owe me a steak anyway,” she said, deflecting the feelings with her usual dose of sarcasm.

“Then it’s a date,” Root said – not making any insinuations for once.

“Please feed Bear before I get there. I saw him eyeing my other ankle,” Shaw suggested strongly.


	67. Grapes of Wrath

Bear may have had the entire BEAR Staff fawning over him, but no one had more sympathy than Shaw, as Root hung on her every complaint. She listened as Sameen grumbled that she was being blamed for the dog’s nervous breakdown. After she was certain that Bear was far enough away that he couldn’t hear, she confessed to Root that she wasn’t totally convinced the dog hadn’t played her.

“I don’t think he ….. Really?” Root first dismissed, but then considered what Shaw was proposing. “He does have a tendency to get his way.”

“Yeah, _funny_ how that works out,” Shaw said because she was attributing that to his owner.

Root couldn’t help but find Shaw’s grouchiness adorable, and wanted nothing more than to soothe her aggravated state. “I know what will make you feel better,” Root snapped her fingers and Shaw stared directly at her.

“Really, Root?” Shaw asked incredulously because she wondered if that was the only thing Root thought about.

“We’ll go home later and you can play in your gun room,” Root said, fully aware that Shaw was certain she was going to say something else.

“Oh,” Shaw said, and for the second time that day, she misread Root’s cues.

“You can’t seem to get _that_ off your mind,” Root teased her. “If it would help you….,” she suggestively said, playing with the top button of Shaw’s blouse.

“That’s not what…I thought you….that’s what you say,” Shaw stammered to get back on track.

Fully aware of Shaw’s distaste for the dreaded public displays of affection, Root gave into the temptation to kiss those full lips that were a hair’s breadth away from a full pout. And she got the expected response, too, when she released them.

Sameen’s lips were saying – “Root!”, but her tongue swept across them just the same. Root was not easily deterred. Thank heaven.

“I will see you later. Right now, I have to meet with your _replacement du jour_ and endure another two hours of her following me around at my heels. That was not very nice of you,” Root shared and somehow that lifted Shaw’s spirits.

“Good!” she said, because they were finally getting back to her ingenious strategy.

Root’s voice became deep and sultry when she explained – “I can endure anything knowing that we’re going to play doctor later.” Her turn of a phrase had the same effect on Shaw as a car did on the train tracks – it derailed her.  
“Think of me as I suffer through this, okay?” Root said playfully, but trying to sound serious.

Root was leaving for her afternoon meetings, and there was Martine, waiting for her at the elevator. Root actually made a sad, pouting face to convince Shaw it was the torture she intended. Martine gave Shaw the two finger salute.

At the very least, Sameen thought, Root would come to appreciate her as a bodyguard.

“And you don’t ‘ _play_ ’ with guns,” Shaw corrected Root as she entered the elevator. “You clean them.”

* * *

The afternoon was incredibly slow for Root as she wished with all her heart that it was Sameen sitting beside her in the car. She missed Shaw’s unconscious clearing of the throat when someone in a meeting said something she found ridiculous. She missed Shaw’s rolling of her eyes when someone was making a fuss over Root. She longed to feel Shaw’s hand on her – anywhere – as she walked through a crowd. Now, she had Martine, whose style was more like a bulldozer moving through a corn field; she just plowed down everything in their way.

“ _Uncle_ ,” Root texted to Shaw that afternoon – a sign of her learning her lesson - and it brought a wide smile to Sameen’s face.

* * *

Sameen visited Iris that afternoon and unburdened herself with all the feelings of guilt over Bear.

“Who thinks the dog is going to listen to everything you say!” she said to Iris.

The therapist was very aware of the entire company’s fascination with the animal.

“He has his own therapist,” Shaw said to Iris slowly to make sure she got that. “I mean, do you really think that guy should have the same title as you do?”

“Does it bother you?” Iris asked, putting the question back on the woman who asked it.

“Almost everything about that dog bothers me,” Shaw said, rubbing her ankle even though it didn’t hurt. “Well, not …everything,” she corrected herself. Thinking she was changing the subject, Sameen shared with Dr. Campbell how Root took matters into her own hands the night of the gala. “Should you …talk to her about that?” Shaw inquired, thinking that foolishness should earn Root at least one session.

“She didn’t actually fire it, correct?” Iris asked because of the company policy that required Security Guards to visit her when they discharged their weapons.

“No! And that would have been worse! John taught her how to shoot, so God only knows what level her skills are at,” Sameen huffed.

“You sound very concerned when you told me about that,” Iris noted.

“Of course I was concerned. She could have gotten hurt! I had the situation under control,” Shaw said, and Iris noted the tone in her voice.

“Did you feel that Ms. Groves didn’t trust that you did?” Iris asked, pushing the boundary a little.

“Yes!” Shaw answered quickly because what she really wanted to share was the payback she had planned.

“Tell me what your concern was about Root getting hurt,” Iris segued and threw Shaw off her train of thought.

Sameen stopped, just short of admitting how terrible that would have been. The feelings were this close to the surface, but she pushed them back. “She needs to trust me if I’m going to be her bodyguard,” she answered instead.

“Trust is very important in a relationship,” Iris affirmed and Shaw wasn’t so sure she was talking about their work relationship.

“Yeah,” Sameen said and was done for the day. She stood up, even though her time was far from over. Iris accepted that Shaw had to control the session and so she smiled when her favorite client thanked her and left.

Maybe Root was right – she just needed to go play with her guns.

* * *

Root had forgotten the fundraising event that Harold had arranged with the staff members of Genrika’s private school. Rather than saying goodbye to Martine and return home after her afternoon meetings, the car took both of them to the cocktail party. It was going to be a short event and Root figured this would give Shaw some time alone at the Penthouse with Bear.

As soon as Root arrived at the event, the young girl rushed over to greet her. “Where’s Shaw?” she asked suspiciously and worried.

“She’s….not here,” Root tried to explain, but that only made the girl more anxious.

“Is she okay? Did something happen? You didn’t break up, did you?” she asked in a flurry of questions.

“Yes; yes; no,” Root answered each inquiry.

“What happened? Why isn’t she here?” Gen asked and Root could tell she wasn’t going to calm down until she explained. “Why is she here?” the youth asked of the stiff Martine who was standing at attention, surveying the room.

“Shaw….,” Root said in a whisper and pulled the girl over to some chairs where they could talk, “….was upset with me.”

“What did you do?” the logical question was asked.

“I…,” Root started and it wasn’t until then, did she really give her actions thought. “…..didn’t trust her,” she said and the words hit her heard. “I mean, I got scared that she was facing a gunman alone and I rushed to help, but I see now how she thought I didn’t trust her. It’s just ….if anything would have happened to her….,” Root divulged, simply because Gen asked her.

“So, she stuck you with Robo-guard to teach you a lesson?” Gen put together rather quickly.

“Yes,” Root said.

“And have you?” the girl asked because she didn’t like not seeing Shaw there.

“I have,” Root said sincerely. “I really have.”

“Good,” her protégé said and then made a circling motion with her finger. “Because this isn’t working for me.”

Her missing Shaw was palpable and it exacerbated Root’s missing her, too. “What do you say we get out of here and go see Shaw?” she asked Genrika.

“Now, you’re talking,” the preteen said and her whole expression changed.

The two of them told Harold and Grace that they wanted to catch up and Gen was going to home with Root. “Like a play-date,” Root expressed, but the eleven year old explained carefully that her age group didn’t do play-dates. “Hmm, that’s what Shaw’s doing with Bear right now,” she told Gen.

“Really?” the youth pondered. “Okay then.”

* * *

Gen liked being with Root. She was like a slightly older kid in a grown up. She loved how spontaneous and carefree the woman was. And how upfront and honest she was, too. There was a long list of reasons Gen liked Root. But, Shaw – now that wasn’t so easy for Gen to put into words. So, she asked Root on the way back to the Penthouse - “What do you like about Shaw?”

Root loved the way Genrika asked her that question. She could tell it wasn’t just out of curiosity, but rather that she was thinking about it herself. Her immediate response was going to be – “What’s not to like,” but she had already said that to Gen. Instead, Root turned and looked out the car window as she mulled over the question.

And Gen waited, because she knew Root was giving it thought. She found so many adults just responded to her questions with the first answer that came to mind. Not Root, though; she was really thinking about it. She could tell Root had reached her answer by the way her eyes lit up.

“Everything,” Root answered with such feeling, Gen knew the list had been long.

“I like the way she says she's not going to do something, at the same time she's doing it," Gen said insightfully.

Root reached over and hugged the youth. “Yes! That, too,” she added to her list.

* * *

Bear greeted Root with almost the same amount of enthusiasm as Gen had building up for Shaw. “Where is she?” she asked, running into the apartment and looking around.

Then, they heard it.

“OH YES, YES! THAT’S IT. RIGHT THERE! THAT FEELS SO GOOD” they heard, the moans coming from upstairs.

Bear shot Root a look – to let her know this had been going on for some time.

Genrika was rather worldly for a preteen. She listened to the sounds – and turned and looked at Root. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to listen.” She often had to remind adults that technically, she wasn’t one of them.

Root’s mind raced for only a lap before figuring out what had her girlfriend on the edge of ecstasy.

“Oh no, it’s ….no…. no – that’s Sameen in her gun room,” Root explained. She took the girl upstairs with her. She knocked on the door of the newly renovated room.

“Really?” Shaw greeted them because this was the Shaw-cave – no humans allowed.

Gen ran to her, wrapping her arms around her waist, as Shaw lifted her grease covered hands up in the air. “I knew I wouldn’t get any peace in here,” Shaw complained, even as she hugged Gen with her arms.

“See?” Gen said, looking back at Root and winking, “I told you.”

“Told you? Told you what? What did she tell you?” Shaw asked suspiciously.

Suddenly, they realized they weren’t alone when Bear started barking up a storm.

“Oh, oh,” Root said, realizing what happened. “He saw the room,” she whispered and went running after him. “Bear, wait a minute. I can explain,” she called after him.

Gen watched Root disappear down the stairway and turned back to Shaw.

“It’s…a long story,” Sameen commented.

“I got time,” Gen said, grabbing Shaw’s elbow and taking her downstairs so she could explain.

“You’re like one of those annoying kids who won’t take no for an answer,” Shaw bellowed, but was going downstairs anyway.

“That’s so _Shaw_ ,” Gen laughed, but didn’t elaborate when Sameen demanded to know what that meant.


	68. Sweet and Sour Grapes

Gen and Shaw followed Root downstairs, as she called out to the offended dog. “Now, Bear, be reasonable,” she pleaded with him.

Shaw couldn’t help herself - and taunted – “Who’s got two thumbs and is the alpha dog now,” as she, pointing to herself and strutting.

“Sameen!” Root scolded her, and Gen thought Shaw getting in trouble was the funniest thing ever. She doubled over, she was laughing so hard.

“Feed me ice cream you already licked,” Shaw harrumphed, and Root gave her a warning look.

“He fed you ice cream,” the child laughed and covered her mouth because she knew better than to make the situation worse. “Sorry, Root,” she apologized and Root said it was okay.

“I’m not apologizing to him,” Shaw called back as she went into the kitchen.

“It’s okay, Bear. Sameen needed a room for her guns,” Root explained to the dog.

“For an animal with no feathers, he sure gets them ruffled all the time,” Shaw called from the kitchen, feeling like she was on a roll.

“Gen, would you….?” Root asked nicely and the kid knew exactly what she was being asked to do. _Shut Shaw up._

* * *

Gen went right into the kitchen where Sameen was washing the grease off her hands. “You’re not supposed to stoop to his level,” the child pointed out, as she climbed up and sat on a stool, watching Sameen.

“He …that dog…today……oh, never mind,” Sameen stammered because this day was never ending.

Then, something dreadful dawned on the youth. “You’re not …you wouldn’t….,” Gen started to ask and her face showed how worried she was.

Shaw looked at her and tried to figure it out. She admitted, she wasn’t very good at reading ‘ _kid_ ’. “Bite him?” she finally asked. Shaw thought that’s what everyone should worry about.

But that’s not what Gen was considering. “You wouldn’t make Root …..,” and the word stuck in her throat as Shaw moved in closer, waiting for it. “……Choose,” she finally said.

“Choose what?” Shaw asked, truly confused.

“Between you and Bear!” the child said through choke filled tears.

“What? No, where did you get that…no,” Shaw said, staring at Gen as a small stream of tears ran down her cheeks.

Gen jumped off the seat, startled at how easily her fear erupted. She drew a deep breath, and turned away to wipe them off quickly. She cleared the throat and muttered – “Oh, good, okay,” trying to cover up that she reacted so strongly.

Sameen stared at her, unsure of what to do. _Where the hell was Root? Why isn’t she here taking care of this? Think!_ Sameen commanded, but nothing came. “Come here, kid,” Shaw said, not knowing what to do , so she grabbed her in a bear hug.

Gen stiffened up, still embarrassed by the sudden shedding of tears. But she did like that Sameen was trying to make her feel better. “You give tight hugs,” she said, squished in Shaw’s embrace.

“Yeah?” Shaw said, but didn’t let go.

Finally, Root walked in and gazed at the sight of Shaw and Gen and broke out into the biggest grin.

“Shaw likes to hug,” Gen said, putting it all on Sameen as she released her. Shaw just rolled her eyes.

“Well, he’s okay,” Root said and Gen was relieved.

Shaw shook her head, bit her lip, and promised herself she was NOT going to ask, but the curiosity kept killing her. “Okay, how’d you do it?” she finally asked since the situation was so ridiculous, there was no guessing what the solution was.

“He’s getting a playroom,” Root said as if – _DUH – what else would it be._

“Oh, that’s so cool,” Gen said, happy that everything was settled.

“Unbelievable,” Shaw let out and meant to keep that to herself.

* * *

Isabelle came in and made a delicious meal of steak and potatoes because it was one of Gen’s favorites and she hadn’t had it in a long time. The women laughed and talked over dinner. Gen couldn’t remember a time when she felt that happy. If she had, it was a very long time ago.

Root asked Gen how school was, and in the course talking about her classes, she mentioned how some kids were nice, but there were a couple of bullies. “I can handle them,” she said, and marveled at how much Sameen could eat. “Can I bring her to Career Day?” she asked Root, taking a scoop of baked potato in her mouth at the same time Sameen did.

“What am I, _Show and Tell_ material, now?” Shaw balked. “Take her, she’s a big shot CEO.”

“Actually, Sameen, I think we should both go,” and the way Root said that, Shaw knew she had something up her sleeve. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow,” Gen said.

“Nice notice, kid,” Shaw complained. “Suppose I’m busy?”

“Then, I’ll bring Root and _Martine_ ,” the kid countered and Root laughed out loud because Gen sure knew how to get to Shaw.

“See? Not cool. I don’t know why you encourage her,” Shaw complained, pointing at Gen.

* * *

After dinner, and two rounds of desserts, Gen had to leave. Isabelle said she would accompany Gen back to Harold’s apartment and off they went. “See you tomorrow,” she yelled as she got on the elevator and Root promised they’d be there.

“Why are we going?” Shaw asked, as soon as the elevator door closed.  
“Because I’m a big shot CEO,” Root teased as she pressed into Shaw. “And you are going to take care of those bullies.”

“Oooh,” Shaw said, getting the picture. “I like the way you think.”

“Is there anything _else_ I do …that you like?” Root asked playfully.

Sameen’s eyes got smoky and she pushed against Root as she whispered in her ear. “I love… the way you…,” she said so slowly that she could feel Root gasp. “…clean up the dishes,” she finished and try to run away, but come on; Root has like five inches on her. All she had to do was reach out and grab Shaw before she got far. Sameen screamed and laughed as Root pulled her by her hand, over to the couch.

“Come here and show Sameen you’re not upset, Bear,” Root called out and held Sameen on the sofa.

“No, Root, no…don’t you let him,” she pleaded, but it was too late. The dog was so excited to see the couple playing, that he started nuzzling Shaw and licking her face.

“Root, please, make him stop,” Sameen laughed and Root gave him the command to stop. Of course, that’s what Shaw thought.

Actually, Root told him – in his native tongue, – that he won.

Root continued to hold onto Sameen’s hands as she tried to wipe dog saliva off her face by rubbing against Root. “I’ll have to take a shower now,” Shaw complained, but was out of breath from laughing.

“Funny, I do, too,” Root said, smiling mischievously down into Sameen’s eyes.

Shaw stopped laughing and looked up into the most angelic face she had ever seen. Maybe because she was still being pinned down gently, Shaw couldn’t get away so easily from her feelings. "Doc…..says…you know, that ….trust is very important …..,” and she was going to say in relationships, but her brain said – “…between couples.”

Root was taken aback, and yet thrilled, that Sameen was talking about her real feelings. “She’s absolutely right,” she said, her expression softening as she gazed down. “I trust you, Sameen, with my very life, I do.”

Now Root possessed a vocabulary that lent itself to romantic heartfelt declarations, but Shaw was only learning this new language.

“Me, too, Root,” she affirmed. “Me, too.”

The peeling away of Shaw’s armor allowed her real feelings to flow through and she reached up to grab Root’s jaw, so she could pull her in to the sweetest kiss Root had ever felt. She held Root’s face just far enough away that she could teasingly bit her lip.

Hands began gently exploring, not with the urgency of the previous nights, but slowly – as if they both understood – there was no rush. No one was leaving tonight. The joint bath took place almost in silence, except for a cascade of moans from the imaginative use of the water spray. Then, they collapsed into bed, Root’s body spooning behind Shaw’s as they fell into a blissful sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Shaw continued her verbal moans – to a slightly lesser degree – in the kitchen over the breakfast Isabelle was there to make. “Dis iz so delicious,” Shaw sighed, but Root told her they had to leave in order to be on time at Gen’s school.

“Okay, now I’m going to dazzle them with some technology talk,” Root said and she didn’t sound at all conceited, just confident. Sameen knew the difference.

“Do you know how bad food is at school?” Shaw noted.

“We’re not eating there,” Root assured her.

“Okay, good,” Sameen said relieved.

“Now, my part is easy. Your part – not so much,” Root thought out loud.

“How come?” Shaw asked, instead of being defensive and stating that nothing about high school was too tough for her.

“Because you have to be subtle. They won’t let you physically harass any of the kids,” Root pointed out.

“Oh, yeah….,” Shaw said, realizing she couldn’t handle things the way she usually did. “I better leave this home,” she said, taking her gun out and running upstairs to lock it up.

When she returned, the couple went downstairs to the awaiting car. “You’re just going to have to charm them,” Root said as they approached the school.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Shaw assured her, already looking around for the usual suspects.

The students were standing around outside the school before the start of the day bell went off. Shaw was walking ahead, looking certain kids up and down that fit the typical profile of a bully.

Gen ran up to Root to hug her and welcome her. She watched as Shaw moved slowly through the crowd.

“We better keep an eye on her,” Gen said to Root.

Gen was right to be concerned. 

All hell was about to break loose.


	69. Apple of Her Eye

Gen wanted to go to Sameen as she perused the different groups of kids stranding around outside of the school, but Root stopped her. “Sameen knows what she’s doing,” suggested the woman who had declared her trust in Shaw. Root was so confident in her firecracker Persian, that she took the apple Gen offered her and leaned against the fence as they watched.

“What exactly is she doing?” Gen asked with great curiosity.

“I believe Sameen is on a Goodwill mission to deal with anyone who might interfere with you enjoying your academic and social environments,” Root said with excitement.

“I told her I could handle the bullies,” Gen said, getting what Root was referring to.

“Not like she can,” Root whispered adoringly.

Looking barely older than the upperclassman, Shaw walked through the crowds, where heads turned to see this incredibly hot looking woman. “I hope that’s the new Sex Ed teacher,” a brazen young man called out and stopped Shaw dead in her tracks.

Shaw bit her lip and kept walking. “Gonna ignore that,” she murmured.

“She’s going to need help,” Gen said to Root. “Bullies at this school aren’t on the football team.” Root nodded her head and off Genrika went into the crowd. She put herself out there as bait, and sure enough, it only took a minute before the people who harassed her on a daily basis came out to nibble.

The first one approached – he pulled on Gen’s backpack and sent her tumbling backwards. He laughed and said – “Oh, did I do that?” Unless Gen was fast enough, he usually just got away.

Not today.

While Gen was picking her backpack and its contents up, the boy ran into a solid wall.

“Use your words, Sweetie,” Root cheered from the sidelines.

“Oh, did I do that?” Shaw asked in the same tone as she extended a hand down to help him to his feet. He was shocked that a woman so short could pull him to a standing position so fast. “It’s gonna look like I’m helping you back up,” Shaw snarled through a fake smile for the security cameras, “….but really what I’m doing…,” she grinned as she straightened out his lapels, “…is telling you if you ever touch that girl again, I will find a way to break your arm.” Shaw said it with such a sing-song tone and grin, that it took him a second to get her message. “You have a good day at school, ok?” she smiled and nodded for him to go. He ran.

“She’s….good,” Gen said to Root when she returned to her side.

“She really is,” Root all but swooned because Shaw was amazing.

Shaw was in protective mode and the smile disappeared from her face as she scoured the area. A group of senior girls, dressed in designer clothes and everything in place, snickered when they walked past Gen. The fact that there were seven years difference between the young genius and some of them, gave them an advantage. Shaw reached out and grabbed the pocketbook of one, but Root noticed it and shook her head no. “This is so frustrating!” she said, unable to handle the situation the way she wanted.

“Who….are you?” one asked, full of attitude.

“So many answers, so little time,” Shaw huffed, biting her lip because her responses all included the promise of snapping their limbs off. Then, she remembered the best arsenal she was carrying.

“You guys are all seniors, right?” Shaw asked in a friendly tone. “Trying to get into top colleges?”

They nodded their heads yes. Then and there, she offered them something they couldn’t get anywhere else, in exchange for their promise to look out for Gen. It clinched the deal. Letters of recommendation from Root.

“We can expect them before the deadlines, right?” one of the asked Shaw as she gave them her business card.

“Absolutely,“ Shaw agreed.

“What is she doing?” Gen asked, stretching her neck to see above the crowd.

“She’s being a genius, “ Root smiled.

“I thought that was your job,” Gen said, climbing on the fence to see Shaw.

“Sameen’s got her own ways,” Root smiled and stood near the girl.

Shaw returned to Root and Gen, triumphantly smiling. “Okay, kid,” she said, in spite of the number of times Gen reminded her to call her by her first name. She decided she liked it – but only from Shaw.

“Hey Brainiac, why don’t you put your mouth to good use,” another boy called out and made a rude gesture to the young girl.

Shaw’s head twisted around to look at him.

“Forty five, ninety, forty five,” Root said, biting into the apple as she spoke.

Gen wondered why Root was giving Shaw the angles of an isosceles right triangle and watched with curiosity. It took Shaw a second, but she got it. Those were the angles of the security cameras and within that area, they would not see Shaw.

“You better not look,” Root said, pulling Gen into, but the girl pushed her head around.

Shaw moved within the unseen zone and reached out to grab the kid. “Hey, do you know the way to ….,” she asked and then bent in so only he could hear her. She pulled him in so close; he could see his scared expression in the reflection of her dark eyes.

“If you say another word to that girl, ever, I will visit your house, in the middle of the night, rip your arms off, shove them so far up, you’ll write your essays with your ….,” and she stopped. “You get the picture, right?”

“Who the fuck…,” he started to say, but that was the wrong answer.

“Where is that again?” she asked in case someone was listening.

“What are you her ….,” he started to ask, but Sameen answered for him.

“I’m her friend. You understand me? Look at her the wrong way and I will visit you,” Shaw said, smiling so nicely that no one could hear her threats.

Or more like promises.

Several football players were passing by when Shaw decided to tell them the kid she was just talking to was trashing their team. Then she returned to Root and Gen.

“I’m not sure we’re supposed to encourage bullying,” Gen said, looking at the boy who was now being surrounded by the athletes.

Shaw looked back at the events about to unfold because of her, and then at Gen. This was the problem with good people, she thought. They play by different rules. Her shoulders dropped, she sighed, and walked back over to the boy she had threatened.

“Sorry fellas, it wasn’t him,” Shaw said, smiling at them until they left.

“You are one crazy woman,” he said, moving back.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Shaw growled at him to make sure he understood. “But you have her …,” she said, looking back at Gen, “….to thank for me calling them off.”

The boy looked over at Gen and nodded his thanks. Then he walked away quickly.

Shaw returned to Root and Gen once again.

“My little firecracker,” Root said and touched Sameen’s chin. Shaw rolled her eyes and tightened her lips. “Are there any others?” she asked.

“No, I think you got everyone,” Gen said, impressed with the strength Sameen exuded.

“Can we get on with this?” she asked, perturbed to be so restrained.

“Sure,” Gen said, happy to be with her two favorite people in the world. “I heard you say you were my friend,” she said, practically skipping as she said it.

“Yeah,” Shaw conceded.

That made Gen feel all kinds of wonderful things inside. She smiled a big grin at Root who would understand just what that meant to her. Then, she reached out and slipped her hand inside’s Shaw – just for a minute, as they all went inside the school.

* * *

Of all the things Shaw thought she might hear inside, - ooo’s and aww’s at Root’s presence, maybe someone yelling – THERE SHE IS – for her aggressive behavior outside –she never expected a woman’s voice calling her name out in a friendly tone.

“SA-MEEN? Is that you? ” she heard and it startled her. She didn’t even turn around; she just kept saying – “No, no, no, no ….,” as she put her head down.

Root looked at the older woman approaching as Shaw tried to become invisible by pulling her head into her body. “Please ….no,” she repeated.

“That is you, Sa-meen!” the woman said exuberantly.

Root smiled, but was confused who this woman was and how she knew Sameen.

“You know my Principal?” Gen said, having never considered that Sameen was ever in high school.


	70. Salt of the Earth

Gen stood perfectly still as she watched the Principal of her school approach with excitement. The woman kept separating Sameen’s name into two distinct parts; Suh-meene. Each time she said it, Gen watched Shaw flinch. She had never seen the woman do that.

“Oh, my word,” the roundish woman clasped her hands. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you right here, at school!”

The woman was excited and surprised, and Root stood there trying to figure out if she liked her. That’s how you size up people when the object of their attention is your bae.

“Ms. Groves, it’s a pleasure. MaryAnn Bryce,” the woman introduced herself and Root shook her hand. “I’m sorry we didn’t meet at the fundraiser last night.”

“How is it that you know Sameen?” Root asked, because Shaw had not yet turned around.

“Sameen was one of my favorite students!” the woman gushed. Root decided she liked her.

Sameen’s eyes were darting back and forth as she told herself that she was a CIA operative who was trained to get out of difficult situations worse than this. And yet, nothing came to mind. Nada; her mind was a complete blank, as if the woman’s presence wiped it clean.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to be shy!” Mrs. Bryce said and Sameen finally drew in a long breath and turned around.

“Mrs. Bryce,” Sameen said, and her attempts to sound excited or happy or anything other than dreading this moment – failed miserably. She put her hand out to shake the woman’s hand, but was pulled into a hug and made Gen giggle because Shaw looked crushed in the woman’s bosom.

“How long has it been?” Mrs. Bryce asked and Shaw was just so glad to be free of her grip that she choked out her words. “Not…. sure.”  “Well, let’s see, the last thing I heard was that you were in medical school, which was no surprise to me,” the woman said, turning to Root now. “Sameen was one of our brightest students.”

“I knew it!” Gen said in a whisper.

“You don’t say,” said Root who was very interested in hearing about Sameen’s high school days.

“She won the _Taylor Achievement Award_ and was voted _Most Likely to Succeed_ by her peers. And _Home Coming_ …,”

“WELL!” Sameen practically yelled at the woman. “This was so nice catching up, but we really have to go.”

“You were …..Home Coming Queen?” Gen asked and she wasn’t exactly happy to hear that Shaw was one of ‘ _those_ ’ girls.

“Well, she was nominated,” the woman in the know explained, “But, Sameen wasn’t one of your conventional students. Quite the rebel if I remember correctly.” She whispered the last part to Root, hoping Gen didn’t hear that.

“Okay, now …this has been fun,” Sameen said, but she was outnumbered by the storyteller and the interested parties.

“What did she do?” Gen asked, all ears. Gen’s school encouraged the students to be curious in their quests, so the woman felt compelled to answer.

“Well, I’m going to share this information, Genrika, because Ms. Shaw learned from her mistakes, making up for her indiscretions in high school, and went on to use the God given talents that we always knew she had,” the woman explained in a very stately tone. “What did you finally do in your career?”

“I killed people for the government,” is what Sameen wanted to say sarcastically, but instead – no, wait, that’s exactly what came out of her mouth.

“Excuse me?” the woman said and her arms crossed and suddenly, Sameen remembered why she never looked this woman up after high school.

“Oh, Sameen,” Root laughed and touched her arm, “Isn’t she a kidder?”

The rescue tube Root just threw out to Sameen to prevent her from drowning in her own words was deflected by the Principals demand to explain what she said.

“I …worked…..for ….the CIA,” Sameen said in a low voice. “I can’t tell you on what.....,” Sameen laughed because this woman had the uncanny knack of reducing her to an anxiety ridden person, “….because then I’d have to kill you.” It was supposed to be a joke, but the woman stared in horror.

“She was an undercover operative,” came the tiny voice who had successfully hacked into Sameen’s file all on her own.

Root heard that and knew exactly what the genius had done. She smiled at her so proudly that for a moment, everyone was lost in what Gen just said.

“How did she?” Shaw asked at the same time as the Principal.

“Well, this has been lovely,” Root said and explained that she was there for Career Day.

“We’re honored to have you, Ms. Groves and I thank Genrika for asking you to come. We are so very proud of her and how well she’s doing here,” Mrs. Bryce shared.

And that should have been the moment when Root took Shaw by the arm and smoothly made their getaway, in spite of wanting to know more about Sameen’s past.

But it wasn’t.

“The event does not start until nine-thirty when all the other guests have arrived,” the Principal informed them. “Until then, you’re more than welcomed to visit Gen’s classrooms and see the work they’re doing.”

“Oh, that would be great…,” Root was saying, but her leave was once more interrupted.

Saying a phrase Sameen was very familiar with, Mrs. Bryce then said – “And I’d like to see you in my office.”

“Oooh,” Gen said, because kids who went to the Principal’s office were never happy. Still. To this day.

“Are you freaking kidding…,” Shaw yelled, but Root stepped in front of her - to help the woman who could rescue anyone, except herself.

“Ms. Shaw is my bodyguard, so we cannot be separated,” Root said and the thought of that made her smile…and smile…..and smile.

“Very well,” the woman agreed and started to walk down the hallway to her office. Without turning around, she called back to Sameen and asked – “Is that gum you’re chewing, Ms. Shaw?”

Gen was expecting her idol to lose it, but instead she saw Sameen stop in her tracks and admit that she was. The woman pointed to the trash bin and Sameen removed the gum and threw it out, her shoulders slumped over in defeat.

“I’ll wait for you out here,” Gen whispered to Shaw and hugged her. Shaw grumbled all the way inside.

Next, the young genius took out her phone and pushed the earbuds in and listened – because, well – she had placed a bug in Shaw’s pocket. She sat on the bench, her legs swaying like she was listening to music, when in fact, she was listening to the grownups.

* * *

“How ….do you two….?” Root was asking to get the connection.

“Sameen attended _Holy Angels Academy_. I was the Dean of Students there,” Mrs. Bryce explained.

“Holy Angels?” Root asked because she knew the school’s reputation as one of the best private high schools in the area.

Sameen kept letting out long audible sighs and rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Are we done here?” she asked.

“That eye roll caused her to have more than one trip to my office. The Sisters didn’t like it very much,” Mrs. Bryce shared.

Root was enjoying this immensely. “Nuns, Sameen? You had nuns?”

“Oh, God,” Shaw said as if someone was pulling back the curtain on the Wizard of Oz. “Could we just…get on with this.”

“I’m glad you’re here today, Sameen, Ms. Groves, because I have been made aware of Gen’s current living situation with Harold Finch,” she explained slowly. Then, she thanked Root for her intervention with Gen’s situation.

“It was Sameen who was responsible,” Root said, giving all the credit to her girlfriend.

“Which brings me to my next point,” the woman said, undaunted by Sameen’s huffing and puffing. “Everything that young girl writes about…,” she said, taking out a folder from her desk drawer, “….has to do with you.”

Sameen was staring out the window, certain the woman was going to be looking at Root because she and Gen shared so much in common.

“Sameen?” the woman called and that’s when Shaw realized she was handing her a folder. Shaw looked at Root who had that syrupy grin on her face that she wore when she thought something was really sweet.

“Tsk,” Shaw made the noise with her tongue and opened the folder. Inside, were essays – all graded “A”. “Yeah, so?” Shaw asked as she put the folder down on the desk.

“You, Sameen, are the object of this young child’s affections,” MaryAnn stated clearly.

Root saw no issue with this and was smiling as she started to read the titles of some of the essays out loud; “ _When Superheroes Don’t Wear Capes_ ”; and – “ _What It Means When Your Hero is Grumpy_ ”.

Gen listened nervously outside, certain that Shaw would not be comfortable with this attention.

“Mrs. Bryce, it seems from what little I’m reading,” Root interjected, “that Gen truly admires Ms. Shaw and I, for one, can attest to the many reasons why someone would feel that way.”

“Thank you, Ms. Groves,” the Principal answered, but she was hesitant. “I am aware that Genrika is participating in BEAR’s mentoring program. I know that you and Ms. Shaw are the girl’s mentors, by request. My concern is that, while Sameen possesses many wonderful qualities that Genrika, no doubt, is enamored with…,”

Root was starting to see where this was going. Sameen had no idea because she was too busy sighing and slipping backwards in her chair, tuning the woman’s voice out, much the same way she did all those years ago.

“I hope you didn’t ask us in here to cast any aspersion on Ms. Shaw’s character,” Root said, leaning over the desk now. “Because I for one will make such a big deal about that, your job will be in jeopardy.”

Gen’s shadow could be seen on the other side of the opaque glass door jumping up with her fist in the air, rooting for Root. “You tell her, Root!” she said and then noticed the secretary staring at her and, so, she took her seat again and went back to her eavesdropping.

Now, Shaw noticed Root and tuned back in. “What? What is this about?”

“We were just talking about what a wonderful role model you are,” Root said, glaring down at the woman.

“The girl’s welfare is our priority,” the woman said to Root, not wanting to offend anyone.

“Then can you tell me why it was that Sameen had to come here and take matters into her own hands to handle the bullies that were bothering Gen?” Root said……. and then wished she hadn’t.

“Sameen?” Mrs. Bryce asked, very concerned about what she just heard.

“Root,” Sameen said through gritted teeth.

Gen slapped herself in the forehead and moaned out loud, sliding down in her seat in almost the same fashion Shaw had just done before. “Oy vey!” she said and shook her head.

“There were….some…one, there was one…..kid…..I saw…..,” Shaw started to explain. Now, Sameen had been trained to give military commanders news they didn’t want to hear with less anxiety than she was experiencing now. Shaw hesitated, pushing her hands into her back pockets.

“Did you hit him?” the woman asked, because she knew Sameen had – on occasion – expressed herself physically.

“No!” Sameen responded defensively. “I….I…..used my words.” She pulled out the small device that had been placed in her back pocket without her knowledge.

Root, realizing she was the one who made this mess, smiled and affectionately patted Shaw’s hand. “You should keep a better eye on these situations,” she lectured the Principal.

The fact was, Mrs. Bryce was very fond of Sameen Shaw and always had been. In spite of the amount of time Sameen sat in the woman’s office during those four years, MaryAnn admired Shaw’s spirit and tenacity not to go along with things. She just wished she had expressed herself in less physical ways. And oddly enough, something about Genrika reminded MaryAnn of Shaw from the minute she met her. “Thank you for bringing that to my attention,” the Principal said sincerely.

* * *

Sameen, in the meantime, had shut the tiny device off and pushed it back in her pocket. This meant, though, that Gen was cut off from listening in on the conversation. She jumped up and started to worry that the Principal was going to remove her from the mentoring program. She didn’t think Root and Shaw were doing all that good a job in there, but she attributed that to the psychological effects of being inside the room that no one wanted to visit. She had to do something!

Drawing a deep breath and summoning up her courage, she whipped open the door to the inner office and walked right in.

“You can’t remove Shaw as my mentor!” she demanded. “Sameen Shaw is the best person I know in the whole world. She’s strong and protective and she’s kind, even to Bear, who gives her a really hard time. And she’s got a lot of friends, even though they act like she’s a big pain. And she’s got the biggest heart I know, even though she says she doesn’t do feelings, she does them better than anyone I know. If you remove her, I will quit the program, and I will quit school and …and…..go to a regular school…that won’t challenge me…..and I will become mediocre……and get a mediocre job……and be miserable my entire mediocre life!”

She added the last part for dramatic effect.

MaryAnn didn’t get to be Principal without learning a thing or two about people. Whatever her concerns were about Sameen, they weren’t founded by what Root and Gen shared.  “I stand corrected,” the roundish woman said and Gen’s sigh of relief was audible.

“Are we free to go?” Shaw asked as if they had been held captives – which in her mind, they were.

“Yes, and you’re free to return, which in spite of this meeting, I really hope you will, Sameen,” Mrs. Bryce said, extending her hand.

Shaw went to shake it, but the woman pulled her in again and hugged her.

“I totally saw that coming,” Gen said to Shaw as the Principal thanked Root for all her support.

* * *

Root, Shaw and Gen walked out of the office and headed towards the auditorium for Career Day. Root scrapped her whole speech on the exciting world of technology and instead, decided to talk about how important it was to have good role models in your life. Most of what Root talked about was referring to Shaw. The CEO got the most applause of any of the speakers.

After the program was over, Gen walked Root and Shaw outside to the exit area.

“I am not grumpy,” Shaw said, gently bumping her body into Gen’s.

“Yes, you are,” Gen replied seriously, bumping Shaw back softly.

Root scooted in between them and took their arms.

“You want to tell me about this?” Shaw said, producing the listening device she found in her pants pocket.

Gen looked up, happy that it hadn’t been crushed or lost. She quickly took it from Sameen’s hand. “Not really,” she said and hugged Root goodbye. “Thanks for coming,” she said and then turned to Sameen.

“Thanks ….,” she said, looking up her. “For everything.” She hugged Shaw tightly for a long minute and then released her.

“Yeah, okay,” Shaw said, unsure of the appropriate response. “Let me know …you know…in anyone….”

“Okay, I will,” Gen promised and walked back to her classroom, feeling like the luckiest kid there.

* * *

Root grabbed Shaw’s arm, in spite of the _no-touching in public_ rule she had. “How does it feel to be admired by many?” she asked, pulling her closer.

“Great,” Shaw said, trying to breathe through the hug.

“I think the kid has good taste,” Root said.

“ _Gen_ , her name is _Gen_ ,” Shaw corrected Root, who smiled and pulled Shaw in closer.

The beauty of Root’s connection with Shaw was that she was never intimidated by anything Shaw did. “So, you got in trouble a lot, eh?” Root asked as they walked down the block to where the car was parked.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, wondering how long Root was going to hold onto her.

“Sounds like you spent a lot of time in the Dean’s office,” Root badgered playfully.

“Is there a point to this?” Shaw asked, trying to pull her arm away, but Root tightened her hold.

“Oh, my God!” Root yelled out, as thoughts ran through her mind. “Did you wear a school uniform?”

“If I answer, will you let go of me?” Shaw inquired.

“You were a real badass today, taking care of those bullies,” Root switched topics.

“I should be able to handle a few obnoxious kids,” Shaw played it down. “By the way, you have to write like a bunch of recommendations for the cool girls.”

“Sure,” Root said unfazed.

“What time is it? Did we miss dinner? I feel like we missed dinner,” Shaw said as they got to the car and Root finally let go of her arm.

“It’s twelve-thirty,” Root informed her grumpy bodyguard.

“WHAT? I thought …it was like…midnight. How can it only be twelve-thirty? Weren’t we in there for hours? I can’t believe it. I’m so hungry,” Shaw moaned, already drained by the day’s events.

“Let’s go home,” Root smiled, thinking they had put in enough work for one day.

The couple got into the back of the car, Root texting Jill to cancel all her afternoon meetings; Shaw falling back and closing her eyes. She was exhausted.

Root finished and put her phone away after sending Gen a text telling her how much she admired her ingenuity. Then she leaned over and whispered in Shaw’s ear something she had been wondering about.

“No, I don’t still have it!” Shaw replied annoyed and shaking her head.

“What about your marine uniform?” Root asked because she didn’t take no for an answer and wasn’t going to stop asking until Sameen said yes.

“Do you have your white coat?” Root asked and Shaw told her she wasn’t going to answer one more question.  "Maybe ....a cape."

Root couldn’t help herself.

The thought of Shaw in uniform was hot.


	71. Serving Her Right

Root was always thinking of ways to help Sameen enjoy herself, and not all of them were in the bedroom. When they returned to the apartment, the couple could hear yelling coming from the kitchen. “No!” Isabelle said, storming out of the kitchen. “I cannot watch what she is doing to pastrami!” Yes, Root had instructed the owner of Parks Deli to be there so Shaw could indulge in her favorite sandwich.

Root shrugged her shoulders as if she had no idea what was going on. “You better go in there, Sweetie,” she said to Shaw as if she just thought of it. Then she winked at Isabelle, thanking her for her cooperation in this ploy.

Seconds later, she heard Shaw carrying on about why she had to repeat everything twice to the woman who knew exactly how she liked the meal set up. “If you even put the mayo jar by it, we will have to start all over,” Shaw fumed and Root smiled that her mission was accomplished.

“Please, Miss Groves,” the housekeeper begged. “Don’t let her ……,” she was going to ask not to let Shaw into the living room.

Before Root could answer, the elevator door opened and Harold and Reese arrived. Root asked Harold to bring some work to the Penthouse, but she asked Reese to come as entertainment. He didn’t know this, of course. Root thought Shaw would enjoy some good old fashion coworker teasing.

“You guys want lunch?” Root asked, as the arguing over ingredients continued in the kitchen.

“What is that?” Harold asked with great concern.

“ _That is my little firecracker fighting for her lunch_ ,” is what the smile on Root’s face said, but she shrugged her shoulders as if she had no idea.

“Every freaking time I have to explain how to make this sandwich,” Shaw grumbled as she burst through the kitchen door, and walked into the foyer where everyone was standing.

“Miss Shaw,” Harold said, staring at the brown paper bag she was holding, as if Shaw had gotten it at the deli.

“Hey,” Shaw said, not stopping to talk.

“Hungry, Shaw?” John asked and then smiled the closest to a laugh that his lips would allow.

“Who has their own Coke dispenser?” she asked, as she sucked on the straw in the large container, the paper bag thrown down on the living room coffee table. She opened the bag and looked in. “There better be chips in there or I swear to God….,” she hollered loudly. The woman purposely put them under the wrapped sandwich just to frustrate her customer.

“You guys want some?” Shaw asked, meaning she would love to go back in there and give the woman a hard time over two more orders.

“No…thank you,” Harold immediately said and sat down, far away from Sameen.

“Nah, I haven’t had my tetanus shot,” John said, meaning he wouldn’t get that close to Shaw while she was eating.

“ _Tetanus_ ,” Shaw smirked unpleasantly. “That was…almost…no, wait….it wasn’t funny. Sorry, Reese,” she said. Then, without letting go of her drink, Sameen tried to retrieve her sandwich.

“Let me help,” Root said, ignoring the plea of the maid. “Two hands are better than one,” Root suggested as she helped Shaw open the wrapper. Shaw was starving, which would explain the ungracious way she grabbed at the sandwich and shoved it into her mouth.

Root just looked over at Harold who sat there wide eyed with his own mouth agape. “Should I get….are there ……napkins?” Harold stammered as he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the woman whose eating had him mesmerized in horror.

“Or a vacuum?” John asked seriously. “Besides Shaw, I mean.”

Shaw was too busy savoring the perfect combination of ingredients which she felt personally responsible for. “I’m sure there’s some in there,” Root said, looking in the bag and Shaw shoved in another mouthful.

“Hoz bayball Coch,” she asked John who had to look at Root for the correct interpretation.

“It’s dangerous, for so many reasons, to speak while one’s mouth is full,” Harold lectured, but out of concern.

Reese looked over at Harold quizzically, wondering why the man thought Shaw would ever listen. “It’s good, thanks, Shaw,” Reese said, waiting until she took the next big bite of food. As soon as she did, he announced, “I told Carter you probably would want to come to the championship game tonight, seeing how you were really the one who got me into this.”

Shaw immediately denied her interest in baseball, going to a baseball game, wanting credit for getting John involved, or anything that would require her to put on anything other than her pajama’s – but all anyone heard was ....noise.

“Great!” John said, his timing for payback impeccable. “I’m sure Joss will be happy to hear that. You’ll come, too, won’t you, Root?” he asked smiling.

“We’d love to,” Root said, because she was fond of Joss Carter…..and Reese.

“Rooooo,” Shaw yelled and then moaned when John said it was all set – and smiled at Shaw.

“It’ll be good for you, Shaw,” he said triumphantly. “Fusco will be there, too.”

“Ohasifthatmakesmefeelanybetter?” Shaw yelled, only slightly more coherent now.

“We’ll bring Gen!” Harold said, thinking this was the best idea ever. “After she completes her homework, of course.”

“Oh, Harold, that girl will have next month’s homework done before she gets off the bus,” Root laughed.

The change of agendas might have upset Shaw’s plans, but it didn’t slow down her eating. No one really paid attention to her continued rants about having to go. Root reached over and nonchalantly took a sip of Sameen’s soda. Reese watched as Shaw stared at her, as if she couldn’t comprehend how a person could do that.

“Maybe we could have the whole thing catered,” Root was suggesting when Shaw grabbed her drink back roughly.

“For everyone?” John inquired and then added, “…or just Shaw?”

“ _Uh jud Shaw_ ,” Sameen mimicked and suddenly found reason to want to attend the game. She could taunt John from the stands. “Will be dere.”

“Well, I have to get back to the office,” Harold said standing up and then added, “…and review how to perform the Heimlich maneuver.”

* * *

Just as Harold and Reese left, Daan returned with Bear who was happy to see Root, but especially happy to see Shaw. “He can’t eat that garbage!” Daan shouted, and grabbed the leftovers in the wrapper away. He heard growling – actually growling – and was surprised Bear was so aggressive, until he realized it wasn’t Bear.

“You might want to have James work with her,” he whispered to Root respectively. “No human should growl worse than a dog.”

“Does he know that most times when I see him, I am armed? With a gun? A loaded gun?” Shaw yelled at the man who was no longer threatened by her. Okay, maybe still a little.

* * *

Root had the antidote to Shaw’s general state of being annoyed at the world. “I’ll run a nice warm bath,” she suggested and Sameen objected as usual – all the way upstairs, into the bathroom, where much to Root’s delight, she ranted and undressed at the same time.

“Baseball game!” Sameen griped. “Who the hell wants…,” she said as Root slowly started to massage Sameen’s water-drenched shoulders. “….go to a stupid…,” Shaw continued, but the sensation of Root’s long fingers kneading her muscles was causing long gaps to appear between words. “It’s…..not…..like…right there…..,” she said as her head dropped down so Root could reach her neck now. “…..it’s….the….Yankees…”

And that was how Root discovered that Shaw’s hipbone might be connected to the thighbone, but the off-switch to Shaw’s language center in her brain was directly connected to her back muscles. The more Root applied pressure, the more Shaw relaxed. She would have drifted off into a blissful state of slumber, if it weren’t for the fact that Root enjoyed making a game out of everything.

“So,” she whispered, leaning over the Jacuzzi into Shaw’s ear. “I bet lifting a hundred and forty-five pounds doesn’t mean that you could pull me in there against my will.”

It was so blatant, that even Shaw could see what she was up to. But, then she thought how surprised Root would be to find herself submerged in water, with all her clothes on. ‘ _Okay_ ’, Sameen thought, ‘t _hat would be fun_ ’. So, taking the bait that Root so easily dangled, Shaw reached back and grabbed Root skillfully under the arm and around her neck. Then, with the easy of someone flipping burgers, Sameen pulled her captive down into the large tub. Root screamed – as if she were in shock to be so easily taken down. Water sloshed over the sides of the Jacuzzi, making a mess. Root lay on top of Shaw’s legs which braced her against injury.

“Well, you got me,” Root gleefully conceded, as Shaw got cocky and said something to the effect that lifting more than her own weight was so easy.

Then, Shaw realized something she hadn’t planned on.

“How…? When? ….,” Shaw stammered. “Root, when did you take off all your clothes?” the woman who was just set up beautifully, asked.

“The minute I knew I could trick you into pulling me in here,” Root said and screamed when Shaw began to wrap her legs around her body to pay her back.

Yeah, that was _some_ retaliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is still reading along, especially those who take the time out to post your thoughts.  
> I appreciate you all for joining us on the ride. Sorry - not the end just yet. lol


	72. Hot-Diggity-Dog

In spite of being _played_ , Shaw did enjoy her bath immensely.

Bear gave them his usual quizzical look when both women emerged. He’d have to remember to pull Shaw in next time he was being given a bath – she really seemed to enjoy it. He was excited to be going out with his favorite couple to the park to watch the baseball game. Why they didn’t grab the ball with their mouths, he’d never understand.

Shaw was happy to be at something that didn’t require her to be in heels, even though she still felt she was on duty. Any time Root was out in public, someone, somewhere was going to go up to her and talk to her, or shake her hand, or ask her for a job. All three annoyed Shaw. The thing she did realize that she enjoyed, was watching Root smile – not just with her lips like everyone did, but with her eyes. Sameen never knew anyone who could do that – make their whole face show they were happy to see you or talk to you. And Root genuinely blushed. Sameen didn’t tell Root, but she thought that was one of the nicest things about her.

Sometimes, Shaw would just be standing there, watching Root with all the others, until something clicked and she remembered – she was supposed to get her away after a while.

“Thanks,” Root whispered when Sameen explained that, unfortunately, Ms. Groves had to leave the impromptu crowd that gathered. Shaw was becoming less abrasive because she was starting to understand just why they wanted to touch Root or talk with her – even for a minute. But that was dangerous for Shaw and she chastised herself for giving into her feelings while she was on the job. “ _Damn therapy,_ ” she said under her breath.

They walked through to the fields, losing most of Root’s fans. Shaw’s mouth was watering as soon as the aroma from the food trucks – hired by BEAR – hit her. “Root?” she asked, suspiciously.

“Yes?” Root asked, innocently.

“Did you pay to have these food trucks here?” Shaw asked, because the field was surrounded with trucks offering a wide variety of choices.

“I…may….,” Root was about to say when John walked over.

“Root! We appreciate that you wanted to ….you know…..keep someone happy,” he said, his eyes wide and his head tilting towards Shaw, “….but the parents aren’t staying in their seats and it’s upsetting the kids.”

“See? That’s the problem with kids,” Shaw said authoritatively. “They’re always whining about stuff and they always want the attention on them. It’s sad really.”

John just slowly looked down at the philosopher and stared. “You ever think about publishing your thoughts, Shaw?” he asked and then looked at Root.

“Okay, kids,” Root couldn’t help but say, because Reese and Shaw reminded her of siblings competing for attention. “John, I’ll have them close up an hour before the game starts.”

“Thanks, Root,” John said, but Sameen heard the time frame.

“What is this, Reese? Midnight baseball?” Sameen huffed. Of course, her real concern was if there was enough time to hit all these food trucks.

“I’ll just tell those kids we’re playing on your schedule now,” Reese bantered back.

“Yeah, and could you get them to win, because I am not cheering for the losing team,” Shaw retorted.

Root knew when to pull the _Mayhem Twins_ apart and did so by pointing out that a table was set up for BEAR employees where they could enjoy the food. “We’ve got plenty of time. Now, John, you go rev up the team to win, win, win,” Root said, her fist flying through the air to emphasize what she meant.

John left to go talk to the hyper eleven year olds when Joss and Fusco came over.

“You okay?” Fusco asked Shaw and then put his hand on her forehead. “All these trucks and you’re standing here?”

Sameen swatted his hand away and said hello to Joss and told her that on behalf of all New Yorkers everywhere, she was offering her condolences for having to work with Lionel.

“I’ll take it,” Joss said, smiling at the two friends.

* * *

As fast as the two of them could trade barbs, Fusco was also the first person Shaw enticed to be her partner in crime – when it involved heavy lifting. “Hey, Lionel – let’s get one of those big tubs and have the kids fill it with Gatorade,” she said, devising a plan for later.

And as usual, Lionel was right there to help carry her plans out. “I’ll get Lee to help get some bottles.”

With that, the young Fusco approached the group and politely said hello to everyone. But when he saw Sameen, he ran over to grab her and hug her. “Aunt Sameen,” he said and Root’s head nearly snapped to look. “What did I tell you?” Sameen said, pushing him back a little and holding onto the boys arms. He thought for a second and sighed – “Shaw”.

“Okay, then, come here,” she said and gave him a tight hug back.

The only person who didn’t find that scene so endearing was Gen. Unlike most of the adults in the crowd, the prodigy knew exactly what to do. She pulled on Grace’s sleeve and asked if all the BEAR employees were there; in particular – was Dr. Campbell?

Grace looked around and confirmed that she did see the good therapist on the other side of the field.

* * *

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Shaw asked Fusco as they emptied Gatorade bottles into the large dispenser.

“Shaw, don’t call her that,” Fusco yelled and then looked around to see if anyone heard her.

“Sor-reeee,” Shaw said. “What’s the deal anyway?”

“She’s very respectful of…things,” Fusco said and Shaw could sense that there had been a long discussion about this, probably where Fusco did most of the listening.

Shaw shook her head and stopped emptying bottles. “And?” she prompted her cohort.

“And ….okay, I’ll tell you, but you gotta promise me you won’t open your mouth about it,” Fusco said, and really should have waited for that verbal agreement. All Shaw had to do was raise an eyebrow and wave her hand as if to say – “Let’s go – out with it.” “She doesn’t think it’s a good idea if we’re together as long as …certain people ….. it’s a conflict of interest,” he finally blurted out.

Shaw threw the bottle down and pursed her lips. “Conflict of interest? You want to see conflict? I’ll show you conflict,” she railed.

“Shaw! I swear if you go over there, I will shoot you in the kneecaps,” Fusco thundered.

“I’ve seen you shoot, Fusco. Your aim is not that good,” Shaw countered, but then Fusco used the biggest weapon in his arsenal. He called over Root.

“Would you explain to Ms. Congeniality why she can’t talk to the Doc?” Fusco implored.

It was just as well that Fusco slowed his annoying friend down, because someone else had the therapist’s attention.

* * *

“They do that a lot,” is the first thing Gen said to the therapist, who sat on a bench away from the crowd, but who could hear the scene Fusco and Shaw were making as Root played peacemaker.

“Oh, hello,” Iris said. She had been introduced to Genrika when Harold and Grace sought out her thoughts on their taking the youth in.

“Do you have a minute?” Gen asked politely and Iris said she did. “As you know, I’m very smart for my age. I don’t say this to impress you, Doctor Campbell, but rather to explain that I know a great deal about feelings.” There was nothing pompous in the way the youth shared this and Iris was impressed anyway. “I had a reaction …to something before….and I’m pretty sure it was jealousy.”

“Oh, I see,” Iris said, finding the child’s openness refreshing.

Gen was moving around until she felt more comfortable with the topic. She looked over at Shaw who was arguing with Fusco. “I was afraid Shaw liked Detective Fusco’s son more than me,” she finally whispered in Iris’ ear

“Oh,” was all the therapist had to say and Gen continued. “I know it’s irrational and related to my past experiences of not really ever having a friend that I could count on. So, naturally, now that I feel Shaw is my friend, I am inexperienced with having her attention given over to another child. I will reflect on this and challenge my thinking process because it is not founded.”

The more the child took the therapist through her thinking pattern, the more Iris thought how very bright this child was. “That’s very insightful,” Iris commented.

“Thank you,” Gen replied. “I am glad we had this talk.”

“Any time,” Iris said, grateful that not everyone wanted to talk to her when she was in the bathroom.

Then proving that she was more than just intuitive, and that she was wise beyond her years, Gen looked over at the adults as Root tried to reason with them.

“You like Detective Fusco, don’t you?” she asked, but not in an impertinent way. “I don’t mean to be rude,” she said when Iris opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Gen had that effect on adults. “You’re probably thinking you have a professional responsibility because maybe some of your clients are friends of people you know,” the child theorized and Iris realized she wasn’t asking for her to confirm or deny. Then, demonstrating her keen understanding of the woman she adored, she turned to Iris again and whispered – “See, Shaw’s a really good friend. So, she’s going to tell you that you can’t let anything interfere when you find true love. She may not say it that way, but it will be what she means. Mostly cause she’s found it now. So, she’ll understand how important it is to her friend Fusco,” Gen expounded.

“You really think that’s what’s going on?” Iris asked, abandoning any attempt to remain neutral.

Gen looked over right into Iris’ eyes and nodded her head. “Now remember, Doctor Campbell, when Shaw comes over here, she probably won’t say all this calmly. So, if you can, just let her get it out,” Gen requested.  
Iris smiled to think how perceptive this young girl was, but worried that she had to grow up faster than most children her age. “Sure, I will,” Iris promised. “Hey…,” she called out when Gen started to leave. “I think Ms. Shaw is very fortunate to have you as a friend.”

“Thanks,” the girl expressed as she happily returned to Grace and Harold.

* * *

Root, in the meantime, was using her best negotiating skills to get her firecracker and the good detective to agree.

Fusco was so used to calling Root by her nicknames, that the man still let them slip now and then. “Listen to Captain Crunch, here would you? She’s making perfect sense for once,” he said because he thought Root was on his side.

Silly Lionel.

When it came to Shaw and the rest of the world, Root was always Team Shaw.

“Actually, Lionel, if you heard what I said, I suggested that maybe Sameen could explain to Dr. Campbell ….,” Root was calmly saying when Shaw interrupted with ….- ” _Again_. Tell him I will tell her again,” she said as if Lionel wasn’t standing there. Doing as requested, Root continued with – “She will tell Dr. Campbell… _again_ ….that she perceives no issue with your triangular relationship.”

Fusco stared at Root who sounded so calm. Then, he looked at Shaw who was chomping on the bit. Most people would have said Fusco survived being a cop all these years by dodging bullets, but Fusco attributed it to dodging being in the middle of two women. “Fine!” he said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Don’t come crying to me if this goes ass sideways.”

“I’m not even sure that’s an accurate bearing,” Root noted quizzically.

”The two of you were made for each other,” Lionel uttered and he meant because he thought they were both pains in the ass.

“Truer words never spoken,” Root smiled as she watched her girlfriend march over to the therapist.

* * *

“Brace for impact,” Iris said to herself as the bodyguard approached.

“Hey, Doc, got a minute? I thought we covered this,” Shaw began without waiting for confirmation that now was a good time. “The way I see it, we have two choices. You can deal with the fact that Lionel and I are both going to see you, or you can screw up the best chance you have of meeting a normal man, because, let’s face it, Doc, in your line of work, that’s not going to happen a lot. You’re probably like a crazy man magnet or something,” Shaw continued her soliloquy.

“Ms. Shaw, I do appreciate your ….,” Iris began, but she was annoying Shaw because she wasn’t on board yet and she had given all of ten seconds.

“Great, so here’s the thing. He’s a great guy. Remember, I mentioned that? But he’s kind of annoying, as a friend, I mean. So, if you went out with him, he’d be happy because, let’s face it, he’s not meeting the right kind of woman in his line of work, either. So, the way I see it, you both are being given this chance to be together and you can’t let something like stupid professional ethics cloud your judgement,” Sameen suggested.

“Actually, I can,” Iris said and Shaw thought how she had never met such a stubborn woman, besides Root, in her life.

“Wow, Doc, you are one tough nut to crack,” Shaw said, deciding she may have missed, but she hadn’t struck out. She thought about for a second and came up with – “Look, Doc, I’m not going to be your client forever. What I’ve got? Three weeks left or whatever. The point is, our connection is temporary, so you don’t want to screw up having a permanent relationship with ….you know….him.”

Iris actually felt sad when Shaw said their connection was passing; Shaw was the kind of person you’d want to know your whole life. But, Iris understood what she was saying.

“Suppose you wanted to come in and complain about him?” the therapist proposed.

Shaw looked over at Lionel, and knew in her heart, the man was hoping she’d do a good job here. “Oh, I’m going to. He’s a super pain in the ass. But I’m not going to be telling you anything you won’t already know.”

“If I agree, I think we will all need to take this one step at a time,” Iris said, her will power fading because she did really like Lionel.

“Yeah, take it at whatever speed you need to, Doc. But just sit with him, okay?” Shaw said, because her stomach was making noises and she was missing out on food.

“You’re a very good friend, Ms. Shaw,” Iris said, getting up and walking with Sameen.

“Yeah, don’t tell him that, please,” Shaw begged.

Lionel did his best impression of trying to be surprised that Iris was even there, and he failed so miserably that Shaw slapped her forehead and threw her head back. “Let’s sit over here,” he said, throwing her a look. And then a wink of thanks.

* * *

Shaw finally sat down at the table where her food was getting cold. “So,” Root said, sitting right next to her. “It would seem you’re Lionel’s hero, too.”

“I swear to God, if he screws this up, I am never playing matchmaker again for him,” Shaw complained, biting hard into a foot long hotdog. The action sent a splatter of mustard straight down Shaw’s t-shirt and into her cleavage.

“Oh, I got it,” Root said, both hands free and now wiping it off Shaw’s chest ….slowly.

Shaw rolled her eyes and looked at Root whose gaze was locked on the area she was wiping clean. Root was really lost in the moment and it took a while before she looked up at Shaw’s stare. “Sorry,” she said, practically giggling with absolutely zero indication that she was.

“I think…,” Root said, taking a bite of Sameen’s hotdog that she put down on the plate while she wiped her hands off, “…..you want Lionel to have what you have.”  
Shaw just glared at the woman who had the audacity to take food off her plate. Most people would have taken that as a sign of Root’s sheer bravery.

“You ate… my....hotdog,” Shaw protested.

“You’re sharing,” Root said, reframing what happened. “Speaking of which, Sweetie,” Root said, close to Sameen’s ear, “….I’m getting tired of sharing you. So, here’s what we’re going to do….”

Sameen actually stopped putting the condiments on the next hotdog to look at Root. She wasn’t sure how she meant that, although she could tell she was quite serious. It was the same tone she heard Root use in meetings when she had enough of everyone, and stood up and took charge. It was the same tone Root used when she refused to take no for an answer.

“….after this game and the festivities end, I am taking you away with me,” Root said, the plan just forming in her head.

“Yeah?” Shaw asked, her mouth full of food again.

“Of course, we both know I couldn’t take you against your will…,” Root cooed and Shaw’s eyes crinkled to agree.

But Root was just setting up the punchline.

“Oh, wait,” Root said, her finger to her chin as she playfully thought about it. “Yes, I can,” she said mischievously.

“Been there, done that, got the zip ties.”


	73. Reese and Famine

Sameen was not quite up to admitting that Root’s proposal sounded both vague and dangerous - enough to entice her. She was also baited by Root’s smugness about it all – as if she really could do it without Sameen’s willingness. Anyone else and she would have challenged them; but she was a little more cautious with the woman who had already proven that she could.

“Where would we go?” Shaw asked, pulling her plate a little closer to herself in case Root had any crazy ideas.

“Oh, I don’t know; somewhere warm….hot. Somewhere hot,” Root said, and purposely took a French fry off of Sameen’s plate as she looked up at the sky and thought about it.

“Are you going to keep doing that?” Sameen asked annoyed.

“Thinking about where I’d like to kidnap you and take you to? I could dream about that all night,” the quirky, but truthful CEO admitted.

“No, are you going to keep taking food off my plate?” Shaw stammered as if it should be the obvious thing she was questioning.

Never one to be thrown by Sameen’s inquires, Root asked – “On a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, how problematic is it for you?”

“Twenty-five …and climbing,” came the equally honest answer.

“Then, yes, I’m going to keep doing it because one day, Sameen, we may not have enough food for the world and sharing will become a critical life skill,” Root proposed.

Telling Sameen there could be a time when there wasn’t enough food in the world, was like telling Reese - Macy’s was out of white, button down shirts – it was akin to the apocalypse.

“Wha wud yu sae dat?” Shaw snapped, pulling her plate nearer and annoyed.

“Bad outcomes are possibilities, Sameen. But don’t worry, there’s plenty to go around tonight,” Root said in a very philosophical tone.

Finally, Lionel came over to alert everyone that the game was about to start.

“Oh, thank God, I thought it would never get going,” Shaw grumbled. “I’m not going anywhere where there are food shortages, or weird food, or …or…one percent milk. You can take Martine.”

“I don’t think you’d like that,” Root said of Shaw’s idle threat.

Shaw was about to counter that remark when something caused her to stop and actually think about that. “No, I wouldn’t, “ she freely admitted.

Hearing Sameen openly express what she was feeling was heartwarming to Root. “Neither would I,” Root said, smiling broadly and grabbing Sameen’s arm as they walked to the field where the players were lining up.

“Okay, okay,” Sameen said after about fifteen seconds. She slipped her arm out after reaching maximum tolerance for public displays of affection, her longest time yet.

“We’ll work on that,” Root said and Sameen could tell from her tone, it wasn’t open to discussion.

“I …don’t even know what that means, but I don’t care because I’m getting popcorn,” Shaw answered even though there was no question.

* * *

You could pick Taylor Carter out of the entire team, not just because of his resemblance to his good looking mother, but also because he possessed her personable mannerisms, too. He was rallying the team and cheering them on when the score slipped in the fifth inning.

Of course, John wasn’t daunted and kept telling the kids not to worry. His calm manner was in complete contrast to the woman yelling at the umpire when a bad call was made. Root was about to learn that no amount of snacks could keep Sameen occupied when she felt an injustice was being committed.

Sameen may have told John, baseball was as entertaining as watching grass grow, but in truth, she knew quite a bit about the game. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” she yelled from her seat when someone on John’s team – the Warriors – was called out, when he ran to base and was tagged. Obviously, the short attendee who was armed at the moment disagreed.

“Reese!” the self-appointed coach called to the coach. She motioned for him to do something. John nodded his head. He had it under control, but the out-of-control woman didn’t think so.

“Maybe we can’t see from this angle,” Root suggested because she was one of the few humans alive who actually used algebra, geometry, and trigonometry in everyday life.

“No!” the avid fan argued. “He was safe from any angle!”

As much as John enjoyed his coworker’s enthusiasm, he knew any second now the umpire wasn’t going to find her so charming. John called one of the players over who was in the dugout and gave him money and instructions. The kid ran to one of the vendors, bought the biggest box of Cracker Jacks they had and ran back. It’s not just the caramel covered popcorn that entices people; it also has a prize. John was hoping one or both would keep Shaw occupied. “Hey, Shaw,” he called out and tossed the snack perfectly through the air – right to her.

“I think he’s thanking you for your assistance,” Root smiled because how could you not want Sameen to help you out.

Shaw wasn’t so sure, so she took matters into her own hands. After she opened the box, shoved a handful of the cavity provoking candied popcorn in her mouth - she decided she knew the perfect motivation for the team not to get discouraged.

“Hey, Coach!” the umpire called over to John when they noticed the unsolicited helper in the dugout.  "Get her outta there!”

“Shaw?” Reese said because the official stopped the game. “If you’re not wearing a uniform, you can’t be on the field,” he pointed out.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t be caught dead in that,” Shaw remarked, missing the point.

“Shaw, you gotta get out of there,” John said and for the first time since she knew he, Sameen realized how intimidating he could be when he was coming at you quickly.

She only had seconds to spare, but it was important that she impart her incentive. “So, remember, you win – we get to do that. If you lose though, he stays dry.”

“How are you going to reach him?” Taylor asked aware of the obvious size difference between Shaw and the man coming to get her.

“We’ll figure that out later. Now, just go out there and win!” she instructed, running away seconds before John arrived to get her.

* * *

“Let’s go Warriors!” Shaw shouted and insisted the attendees chant along. But Sameen’s containment was short lived, and as she sat next to Root, the fevered fan couldn’t seem to help herself.

Long before Shaw arrived in Root’s life, Reese was Root’s bodyguard, and in spite of their differences, they had an excellent rapport. Reese grew to tolerate the CEO’s impulsiveness – even though his alcohol intake was higher on those days; and Root learned to read the man’s expressions like a book.

Right now, those baby blues were pleading with her to do something. “Happy to oblige,” Root smiled back to the desperate man. If snack food failed, Root could only think of one other way.

“HOW IS THAT SAFE? HE TAGGED HIM!” shouted Sameen with great angst that the rest of the stadium wasn’t protesting with her.

“Sameen?” Root said, pulling the shorter woman gently down into her seat.

Shaw had no choice, but to resume her seated position. “What?” she asked, unable to imagine why Root would interrupt her active and apparently, much needed, participation.

“I’m doing this for your own good,” Root said and her hands sprung out so quickly, Shaw … _yes, our Shaw_ , didn’t have time to react. Root pulled Sameen’s face in fast, devoured her mouth in the sweetest, soft, yet firm, kiss that lasted so long – Shaw had no choice, but to surrender.

Gone was the rantings to the umpire, along with Shaw’s inhibitions, temporarily, anyway. “Okay….,” Shaw said, her lips on fire, her throat dry, her face flushed. “That …was….hot.”

* * *

John wasn’t sure what Sameen had said, but whatever it was, her words set the team on fire. Batter after batter got up and hit the ball. The other team fought back, but Taylor hit the grand slam that ended the game and made the Warriors the champions.

Everyone jumped up in the stands and cheered and hugged. Janine, who was sitting behind Shaw, finally reached over and hugged her. And didn’t let go.

“Uhm, Root?” Shaw called out to her girlfriend. “A little help here.”

Janine finally did let go, which was a good thing, because Shaw had a promise to keep. Pulling at Fusco to come with her, they rushed to the dugout where the team was in celebratory mood for sure.

“How are we gonna reach him?” Fusco asked as they lifted up the Gatorade-filled container to dump over Reese’s head.

“I got that,” Shaw said as they sneaked up behind him. “Ready, Martine?” Sameen called out and the woman made her move. The martial arts expert gave John the slightest hit with her foot to the back of his leg, and the man fell down on both knees. Now, even Shaw could reach him.

“Congratulations, Coach,” Shaw called out, as she and Lionel emptied the contents all over the man who – after nine innings of baseball, still looked pristine in his coach’s shirt.

The kids screamed with excitement and high-fived Sameen, who provided the best entertainment.

“Okay, okay, you got me,” John conceded, smiling – and rarely the butt of anyone’s joke. The sweet orangey smell was intense, as the liquid quickly soaked all of John’s clothes. He seemed to take it all in stride, until he reached over and grabbed Shaw and pulled her into a hug. The man’s strong arms just held her there as he told the team how much he appreciated all her help. Shaw fumed, but couldn’t move as Lionel laughed even harder now. John held her in place until he was sure the gooey substance was now all over her.

But if you thought Shaw wasn’t happy; you should have seen Root’s face.

Time seemed to slow down up in the stands and Root was almost certain, it had been an hour since John first grabbed her girlfriend. “Okay, I am not liking that!” Root admitted spontaneously. She was about to shout at Reese and was making her way through the crowd to deliver that very message, when she heard Shaw complain that she would need another bath, if he didn’t let her go.

“Okay, maybe just one more minute,” Root said, looking on the bright side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That title made no sense, I know, but it sounded funny at the time. lol  
> Thank you to everyone for the kind encouragement NOT to end this story.  
> I truly hope you don't regret it.


	74. Sticky Situation

Root wasn’t sure what she enjoyed more; Shaw calling out for her to help, or the idea of just what condition her bodyguard was going to be in when Reese released her. As soon as he did, she pulled away and touched her sticky hair, and wet clothes.

“Reese!” she said and wanted to say so much more, but John reminded her there were _children_ present.

“Don’t forget the baseball team, too,” Joss commented.

“Look what he did to me!” Shaw complained when Root finally walked forward. “Can’t you…fire him?”

Root bit her lip and tried to sound serious when she told John he was flat-out terminated. Unfortunately, Root’s smiling eyes as she scanned her girlfriend from head to toe, contradicted her words. She really wanted to thank Reese for setting up another wonderful opportunity.

“I am…totally…covered…..,” Shaw stammered as if she never heard the concept of revenge. “Not cool, Reese!” She would have carried on more, because Shaw believed in really letting someone have it, but Bear arrived and found her even more enticing than usual. “No, Bear!” she commanded, then pleaded, but the dog couldn’t help but sample the sweet coating. He leaped up, in spite of Harold holding onto the leash, and slowly brought Shaw to the ground. “Harold!” she shouted and the kids were all laughing which Bear interpreted as their encouragement.

“Bear!” Root said and the dog stopped immediately. His loud howling as Shaw lay flat on the ground was his way of saying –“ _Who’s the alpha dog now?_ ” Sameen wouldn’t have known that except Root scolded him by saying – “Bear, don’t taunt. That isn’t nice.”

Shaw shot up from the grass, some of it now attached to the sticky fabric. “You!” she said to Bear who turned to look at her with an innocent expression on his face as if to say – “Who me?”

Root could tell what was going on, and knew what kind of night she’d have if both Shaw and Bear were at the Penthouse. It would be one long night of barking and whining. And Bear would complain, too. So, she asked Harold if Bear could stay with them and Gen thought that was a fabulous idea. She even promised to learn Dutch, which would only take this youth a couple of hours, if that.

The group of friends sat around the catered tables and enjoyed the celebratory pizzas that BEAR had delivered. Finally, it was time to leave and John took one more opportunity to gibe Sameen. “Well, Shaw, I’ve seen you in some sticky situations before, but this one takes the cake.”

“Not funny, Reese,” said the woman who could dish it out, but was shocked when someone was giving it back.

* * *

“I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming,” she confessed to Root as they walked home. Shaw refused to get in the car because she said she’d adhere to the leather seats.

Root didn’t care how they got home, just as long as they did, so she could suggest several ways to remove the gummy goo. The genius made sure to slip her hand around Sameen’s arm when they were talking, or to push her hair back, thereby transferring some of the residue onto her.

“Looks like I need a shower, too,” she all but burst out when they got back home.

“Root, really?” Shaw said, finally catching onto her lover’s transparent ploys, but Root responded the only way she knew Shaw could not challenge. She pushed her gently against the wall, and let her tongue slip the length of Sameen’s ear, explaining she’d be more than happy to help Sameen get rid of the sticky substance, one lick at a time.

“Okay, okay, enough of that, you win,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air. Root’s way would require Shaw to stand still for too long.

In the spirit of – _I’ll do you hair, if you do mine_ ; - Root admitted that she was rather glad John sought to exact his revenge this way. “I like being in sticky situations with you,” Root punned and Shaw rolled her eyes.

“He’s not done, you know,” the woman who knew how revenge worked said. “He’ll look to do something else, I’m sure of it.”

* * *

As they cuddled that night, Root’s fingers began traversing Sameen’s bare back. Each time she did this soothing massage, her fingers traced over scars. While the action relaxed Sameen, when Root felt a welt from an old wound, a fire burned inside her. How dare someone touch her Sameen? When she would ask Sameen to tell her where she got one, Shaw would simply murmur – ‘over there’. When prompted for who did it, she would say it was simply the price she paid for the job she had.

As Shaw slept peacefully that night, bathed in a warm moonlight that made her scars visible, Root decided she was going to exact revenge for each one of them. It had been a long time since such feelings stirred inside her heart, but Root was certain – they would pay.

* * *

The next day, when they returned to work and Sameen was on her way down to have her second breakfast, Root called John in to congratulate him again on his victory. John thought it was overkill, but then, his boss was all about extremes sometimes.

After telling Reese how much fun she had last night – and she didn’t mean at the game, but left that detail out – she became more serious.

“John, in all the time you worked with me, I don’t think I ever once asked you about your military experience,” Root confessed, feeling embarrassed that she hadn’t. “I want to apologize for that.”

John responded immediately because he didn’t even have to think about this. “No need to apologize, Boss. It’s not something we ever care to talk about.” Root understood that by ‘we’, John meant anyone who did special ops for the military.

“Do you have scars, John? I mean physical ones?” Root queried.

John was taken aback by the topic. “Sure, yes,” he said, unable to figure out where Root was going with this.

“What do you think when you look at them?” Root asked quietly.

“I don’t look,” John said.

“Surely, you must see them or feel them?” Root pressed.

John had the odd advantage in his relationship of being with a woman who knew exactly how any one of his scars got there. Joss was in the military and knew what weapon could do what damage. Now, his boss’ questions made him think. John still wanted to do the right thing by Root. “I’m just glad I’m still here,” he answered, his voice even lower than usual.

“And do you think about the person who did it to do you?” she asked, not relenting in her pursuit for information.

“I try not to,” John responded.

“But do you? Do you think about the person who did that to you and left you with a calling card for the rest of your life?” Root asked, but now her voice was filled with anger and John realized how personally she was vested in this exchange.

And John got it.

“Root, when we sign up for this life, we understand it’s going to come with stamps on our bodily passports. It’s how the system works. Hell, it’s how the world works. It’s not as civilized as the world we’re in here. You can’t expect to go back in time or space and find the person who did any of this and pay them back. That would be a lifetime of insanity, Root. It would cost me my chances now to be happy,” he said strongly and he wanted Root to know – he knew. “Root, you move on.”  
Root looked up at the man who stood up now, because he had said all he was going to on this. Blue eyes stared hard back at her, and she thought she had never seen him more serious. “Yes, I guess…you’re right,” she smiled, letting John know she knew he saw the bigger picture here.

There was no way Root could ever do anything for Shaw that didn’t show in her eyes, her voice, or her heart. Root was an open book when it came to that. This is why she was going to need someone else to help her.

“I guess it’s because I have no personal experience with any of this,” she said to John in an apologetic way.

“I get it,” John said, but asked her again to leave the past where it was.

Root thanked John without answering his question, but she sounded as if she would because she admitted – there was no way she could carry out such a plan. John reassured her, no soldier would want what that kind of a plan, even if it were possible. Root smiled her concession and thanked John before he left.

Root appreciated John’s honestly and insights. Her own scars were more psychological, than physical, and she knew how long it took her to deal with forgiving the people who had hurt her. It was Harold who convinced her that forgiving was not condoning; that forgiving was a way for her not to be ruled by her past. It took her a long time to wrap her head around this new, more enlightened definition of forgiveness. And more surprisingly for Root, it actually worked. She no longer dreamed of going back and hurting the people who had hurt her. That was in her past.

But, that wasn’t good enough for Sameen.

And the woman who had embraced forgiving for her own aggressors, was about to make hell rain down on Sameen’s.


	75. Add a Dash of Trouble

What were roadblocks to some people, including large governmental agencies, turned out to be child’s play for Root. Her genius was in developing algorithms that computer programs then used to determine where individuals might be at any given time. If she combined this with the young genius’ software program that synced phones, she was certain she would be able to find the people responsible for hurting Sameen. The fact that their identities might be hidden by layers of espionage only meant Root needed someone to flush them out. And she knew exactly who the person for that job would be. Someone who cared enough for Sameen who would want to do it.  
By the time she turned on her computer the next morning at work, the results were there in front of her. Six locations were pinpointed where the individuals resided with high probability. Once targeted, the program would keep track of their movements. She could easily wire money to an offshore account where her designated hit-man for hire could be paid. With her technology and Intel, he’d have little problem getting the job done.  
Impulsive moves came easily to Root. Once she set her mind to something, she made it happen. This is why she was surprised that her finger hesitated to press the enter button on her computer that would have set this entire operation in motion.

But she couldn’t do it.

What once felt like a brilliant plan of revenge, now felt like lying. What once felt like a way to even out the scales of good and evil, somehow felt like there was too much to lose.

Root sat back down in her chair at her desk, to think this over.

* * *

  
Sameen, in the meantime, was in a team meeting with John, reviewing company procedures. When it came to how the most recent events were handled, he praised Sameen for her tactics and turned the meeting over to her. Most of the attendees might never have to act as Root or Harold’s bodyguards, but they should learn from a professional in case they did. Sameen was more than happy to oblige and really felt part of the team by the time the meeting ended.

“Any one of them would follow you into the heat of battle,” John said to Shaw afterwards. He was using a military term, but she knew what he meant.

“Yeah, but would they follow me into Bloomingdale's on Black Friday because Root found the perfect shoes?” Shaw kidded back.

“That, too,” John said.

“Well, listen John, don’t get any crazy ideas about leaving,” Shaw continued, “…because I’ve seen your coaching skills, and I don’t think the Yankees will be calling anytime soon.”

“We won the championship,” John protested.

“Yeah,” Shaw answered sarcastically to keep him in his place.

* * *

Shaw’s day was going well and it was about to get better. Zoe Morgan was visiting Harold and ran into Sameen.

“Is that yours?” Sameen said, of the adorable West Highland white terrier. The small white dog’s head was peeking out of Zoe’s very large purse.

“God, no!” Zoe said, almost forgetting she was there. “It’s my friend’s. The crazy thing has separation anxiety when she’s not around and she asked if I could keep her for the day,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“You want me to take her upstairs to Bear? I don’t think he knows he’s a dog, so it might be good company,” Shaw suggested and Zoe handed the bag over.

“I’m more of a German Shepherd type,” the powerful business woman shared.

Shaw bent down and picked up the dog that started licking her face. “Okay, let’s not get personal now. Let’s take you upstairs,” Shaw said, thinking Bear might find it intriguing that there were other four legged creatures on the planet.

* * *

Bear was quite occupied at the time. Whenever Root was dealing with a quandary that caused her chest to tighten, she found it good to talk it over with the calming pet.

“You see my point, though, yes?” she asked him as he stared back that he wasn’t flinching on this one. “Just try to see if from my side,” she implored. “I have the knowledge, the technology, the money and now, the resource.”

Bear barked loudly, even before Root finished her sentences, because he thought this idea was the most dangerous thing Root had ever come up with. She drew a deep breath as she considered why she shouldn’t do this. “Not even…,” she said and he barked louder. His look of exasperation was clear.

“Okay!” Root said, deciding that Bear was picking up the part of her that really thought the same thing. It wasn’t worth the risk. “I’ll tell her over dinner. It’s easier when she’s …eating,” Root admitted. “Who’s a good boy?” she said, reducing him to puppy frenzy with her adoration.

Suddenly, he pulled away and looked at Root’s office door. It was as if he sensed a disturbance in the attention force outside. He got down on his front paws and started to growl in a low tone. Root had never seen him like this. The knock came and Root told them to come in. Her eyes grew wide with horror as she took in what poor Bear already sensed – Shaw was with another dog.

"Sweetie?” Root said as Sameen came into her office.

“Look at this little one. Isn’t she adorable?” Shaw was saying in an unusually affectionate tone.

“Sameen?” Root said cautiously, thinking there wasn’t enough therapy to get Bear over this.

“I thought Bear might like…stop that,” she laughed as the little dog nuzzled her neck and then licked her face.

The low growling continued and the hair on Bear’s back was standing up. He was in attack mode. Fortunately for Shaw, he was afraid of what she was holding.

“Bear, look,” Sameen said, not really listening to the tone in her girlfriend’s voice. “I brought you a friend. She has four legs just like you. Was that too much?” she laughed because the idea what Bear didn’t know he was a dog was funny and ridiculous. Mostly ridiculous. Sameen sat down on the long couch with the dog moving around in her arms. “And she’s wearing a fur coat just like you have.”

How could this not be funny!

But Sameen suddenly saw the look of horror on Root’s face and stopped. “Are…you…okay?” she asked, slowly looking around to see if she interrupted a meeting or if there was another crazed gunman there.

“Sameen!” Root said, her tone was definite.

“I’m sorry; did I interrupt the reading of your will? What is so serious here?” Shaw asked and put the dog down.

“Don’t!” Root pleaded, but it was too late. She grabbed the edge of her desk as the visitor immediately ran over to what she mistakenly thought was another dog. Upon seeing the larger animal, the female pup did what Root was afraid of; she barked loudly at Bear.

Four consecutive barks later – Bear took off, out of Root’s office.

Shaw had never seen the dog move that fast. She was amazed. “Is he?” she tried to ask, but the thought of the large dog being so afraid of the much smaller one was too funny. She fell back on the couch and laughed. “Oh my God, he’s afraid?”

“Sameen? Sweetie?” Root called, the way someone who knows what just really happened - speaks to the one who is clueless.

“He doesn’t even know he’s a dog, so what is he afraid of?” Shaw tried to get out, but was choking over her hearty laughs. Until she realized – Root was upset.

Root reached for her phone and called someone and told them they had a – _Code 7._ In all the time Sameen had been there, she never knew they had codes. That’s because she didn’t read the manual.

“What is a _Code 7_?” she asked, standing up. “Is that the code for Bear pouting or something?” She didn’t mean it to sound dismissive, but she was having trouble understanding what the emergency was.

“He has free reign of this building, Sameen,” Root said and now Shaw got it very clearly. “He could be anywhere.”

Feeling like the kid who pulled a prank on the teacher and _then_ found out it wasn’t funny; Shaw shoved her hands in her pockets and tried to defend her actions. “I thought …he would…..like one of his own kind,” she said.

Shaw’s good intentions were clear and her regrets were obvious. Root completely understood why she did what she did. She moved over to Sameen and hugged her. “I know, Sweetie. But he does not share and now, you ….were with a…… dog.”

The words hit Shaw like large drops of rain that come down so hard, they hurt. She frowned and her mouth opened, but her brain was still trying to connect all these dots. “So….he’s not scared? He’s …..?”

“Jealous,” Root filled in for her to make it easier. “And yes, probably scared, too. She’s a little aggressive,” she whispered and Shaw looked down at the white ball of fur that was biting the end of the carpet ferociously.

“But he’s not jealous…..of …..us?” Shaw said, waving her finger back and forth between her and Root.

“No, of course not, silly,” Root said, shaking her head, as if that idea was preposterous.

One of the things Shaw excelled at was plans of action. “Okay, let’s go find him and I promise not to tease him that he ran away from a dog that weighs eight pounds,” Shaw said, feeling she was being more than generous.

“Oh, it’s not going to be easy to find him,” Root said, because the more upset he was, the farther he ran. “He also has an access card to get out of the building.”

“Of course ….he does,” Shaw said, hitting her forehead that she forgot that.

She could hear people reporting on Root’s phone now that they were at their stations and the search had commenced. Shaw had heard rescue missions with less chatter. “Team one in position. Team Two ready, etc.”

“Root, I’m …..sorry,” Shaw said, worried that the dog had taken off ……and was truly offended.

“I know you are,” Root said, taking just a moment to lean over and assure Sameen with a kiss. “We’ll find him. We’ll worry later about finding a way for him to take you back.”

Yes, she was serious.

“Are you…..what?” Shaw bellowed, as Root instructed Jill to return the ‘d-o-g’ to its caretaker, Zoe.

“He’s very upset, Sameen,” Root pointed out, and Shaw just stared at her, wondering when the corner of her lip would turn up and break out into a smile. It didn’t.

“Oh my, God,” Shaw said, but followed Root out of the room.

For Shaw, the situation was going to go from the ridiculous from the sublime when Martine accepted all responsibility for this as she announced she had not been diligent in covering the Codes Section of the Manual with Shaw.

“That’s…not true,” Shaw had to respond because the woman had done her best to drill it in to Shaw over drinks one night.

“What is it?” Janine asked when she saw the crowd gathered.

“ _Code 7_ ,” someone responded and the crowd started to murmur. “She is so not going to get _Employee of the Year Award_ after this,” another added. Janine told them both to hush.

* * *

Everyone took off in designated directions. Sameen felt terrible for having caused this, but was still struggling with how ridiculous it was that an entire office was on the hunt for a dog that got jealous and threw a fit.

“ _We’ll find him and then I’ll sort out this craziness_ ,” she murmured to herself in the elevator. “I _’ll have my therapist talk to his therapist_ ,” she mumbled, trying to remain sane in this insanity.

Root was very concerned, never having seen the dog act like this. Could he just be upset that Shaw had been holding another dog? Or was it because of what she had been talking to him about before Sameen even arrived.

Sameen was trying desperately to keep this in perspective when she shouted out – “Can’t you just call him? Don’t tell me he doesn’t have his own phone!”

But it made Root realize that – while he didn’t have his own phone – (it was a pocket issue) – he did wear his collar today! She reached over and grabbed Sameen and kissed her hard on the lips. “You are a genius,” she said as she accessed her phone and checked the GPS in his collar.

“He’s headed to the Penthouse,” Root said and grabbed Sameen’s hand as they ran all the way to the apartment.


	76. Eating Crow

Unlike his two-legged counterparts who were now chasing after him, Bear knew exactly what needed to be done. Why did they make things so complicated? As long as he had been around them, he could never really figure them out. He had hoped that all the specialists he dealt with could help uncover the mystery of the rather simple creatures, but he never quite got the answer. When he was upset, he let the world know it. When he was happy, he shouted it from the rooftops. Why, then, did the creatures with obviously simpler brains, not just come out with their feelings?

He had run through Central Park for hours and had come back less exhausted than he found taking care of these two women.

* * *

Shaw wanted nothing more than to shake herself or at the very least, shake Root over this debacle. But she could see how upset Root was and she didn’t want to do anything that would make that worse. And just when Sameen thought she understood what was going on, Root switched gears and confused her. They had just asked the doorman at the Penthouse building if he had seen Bear. He didn’t blink; he pointed his finger up to indicate the resident was already upstairs.

“ _Everyone’s drinking this Kool Aid,_ ” Sameen thought, hoping to soothe the part of her brain that was yelling how crazy this was.

Root got on her cell and informed John that they had located Bear and to please thank everyone for their efforts. Then she looked over at Sameen who was busy struggling with the rational part of her brain that was screaming for help.

“I don’t know now for sure if it was you cheating on him, or something I said,” Root pondered out loud.

“I …what?” asked the woman who was still trying to convince herself that this was reasonable. “I’m not in a relationship with him, Root. I’m in one with you,” Shaw said and Root smiled because in spite of feeling anxious, she liked that Shaw said that.

“Not true,” she countered gently, “…but I’m beginning to think this reaction was a little over the top…”

“YOU THINK?” Shaw heard her rational brain shout out sarcastically.

Root was unfettered by the remarks. She was busying trying to decide if Bear was more upset with her, or with Sameen. “Sending you in to apologize won’t work if he’s upset with me,” Root said as the door opened to the Penthouse.

All she heard behind her was Sameen murmuring – “Not doing this; I am not doing this,” she kept repeating. “Look, Root, we keep teetering on the edge on the insanity bowl, and one day….,” Shaw said, pushing her hands out in a diving motion, “We’re just going to fall in and drown.”

“He disagreed vehemently that I should contact Cole,” Root blurted out, looking around the large area, but not seeing the dog. Now, of all the ways Root could have shared her crazy idea with Sameen, this was the worst way to do it. It blindsided Sameen and she didn’t handle that well.

“Root? It sounded to me like you just said you wanted to contact Cole. _My_ …Cole? Why would you want to do that?” Shaw asked unable to figure out the connection.

Root winced when Sameen called him hers, but that was because she was trying to figure out if Root knew another person by that name. “I need to …,” Root was saying, looking around and still unable to find Bear.

“You need to…. tell me what the hell is going on,” Sameen said, now grabbing Root’s arms so she couldn’t walk away.

Root rolled her eyes like – _it’s no big deal_ – but it was. “I wanted to …,” she said and put her hands around Sameen’s back now to remind herself of how angry she got when seeing those scars. “Let’s sit down,” Root said, aware that they weren’t finding Bear and perhaps she would need him now. She called out to him in the vast space, but he wasn’t coming out.

Bear knew she made this bed, and now it was time for her to lie in it. Then, he remembered how happy Root seemed to be when she was in bed, and decided he needed another idiom.

“Sameen, I had this crazy idea,” Root began as they sat on the large couch together.

“This..... is my shocked face,” Shaw said sardonically at the notion Root’s idea was wild. She was amazed at how hard it seemed for Root to explain this considering she usually just blurted everything out.

Root closed her eyes and shook her head, not wanting to see Sameen’s expression. “I developed some software that made it possible to track down people what were involved in any incident of torment you might have experienced in your time in the CIA.”

There, she said it!

“What?” Shaw asked and her tone was very serious.

“I developed….,” Root started again.

“Yeah, I heard that, Root. What were you going to do with it?” Shaw asked, the hairs standing up on the back of her neck that were shouting – _Danger, Sameen Shaw, danger._

“I wanted those people to pay,” Root admitted and now Bear started to slink out of his hiding place because he could sense what was coming. _Danger, Bear Groves, danger._

“And you were going to get Cole to do it? How? Have you told him?” Sameen shouted and actually startled Root.

“No, no, Sameen, I couldn’t,” Root admitted.

Bear wanted so much to howl right now because it was his talk with Root that prevented her from acting on this idea, but he was still sensing it was not safe out there.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been? How do you know you would have been right? You could have gotten him killed! Not to mention innocent people, ” Shaw yelled and started to pace back and forth.

“I’m sorry, Sameen, I ….just wanted them to pay,” Root said and Shaw stopped momentarily to take in the tone of her voice.

“Root! You’re impulsive in business; I get it. It works for you. But this involves people’s lives and if you made a mistake it could cost someone …,” Shaw began to explain.

“I wouldn’t make a mistake,” Root said and Sameen was surprised at how argumentative she was about this. Root’s mind was set on punishing those responsible, but she was blinded to all the things that could go wrong.

“And were you going to tell me before you hatched this scheme?” Shaw asked.

“I didn’t think I was going to at first,” Root admitted honestly. “I just wanted it done; I wanted them to pay.”

Sameen pushed her hair back off her face as she paced around the room. She had just decided that being taken care of wasn’t all that bad when her insane girlfriend put together a plan to avenge anyone who had tortured her. She wanted to appreciate it, but she couldn’t. She finally stopped walking and faced Root. “No!” she said harshly. “I know you were thinking that you were helping, but _you_ were helping _you_ , Root, not me. I never asked for you to do this. I don’t need you sending couriers half way around the world to make anyone pay. I knew what I was getting into, Root. Day one, I signed up for the most difficult missions because I had nothing to lose. I may have scars, Root, but I came back. I completed those missions,” Shaw said, and her jaw was tight, her breathing jagged.

“I’m sorry…,” Root said, just now realizing that those marks meant something to Sameen. They were her badges of honor.

“You know,” Sameen said, anger now rising faster in her throat than she could handle, “…I thought we were doomed because I sucked at relationships. But we’re doomed because you don’t know the first thing about what it takes to be in one.”

Shaw saw immediately the effect those words had on Root as she shot back on the couch, tears forming in her light brown eyes. If Sameen didn’t know how to handle over-protective Root, she sure as hell didn’t know how to handle wounded-by-words Root.

“We’re done,” Shaw said and stamped her feet as she walked to the elevator.

“Sameen!” Root cried out, overwhelmed by how badly the turn of events had unraveled. “I’m sorry.”

But Sameen’s exit was fueled by anger – anger that had been waiting to rupture and say – I told you so – about trusting that she could be with someone. Being hard on herself was nothing new to Sameen, but this time it was laced with the shame that she should have known better. She took the hurt in her heart as proof that she had foolishly let this go on too long.

She got on the elevator and didn’t look back.

* * *

Root tried to call Sameen, to text her, begging her to give her a chance to explain. Somewhere around the fifth try, Sameen smashed the phone with the heel of her boot and tossed the remains in the sewer.

Bear came out of hiding, knowing how upset Root was. Now was not the time for lectures. He pushed his head onto her lap and accepted the tears that streamed down Root’s face as she questioned over and over again – what had she done?

* * *

When Sameen was done with something, there was no negotiating. Her modus operandi for all her missions was to shut down, get it done, and leave when it was over. She was desperately trying to reinstate those skills now with this situation. She had genuine feelings for Root, but was trying to convince herself now that it had been temporary and now it was over. She was going home, getting her guns and shooting them – at a shooting range, unless something or someone got in her way. Feelings kept spiking inside her, and she cursed herself for giving them the password to get out. She was going to have to drown them in whisky to get them to shut the hell up.

Liquor and guns – Shaw’s therapy before Iris.

* * *

The problem for Root was that she lacked skills in putting together a Plan B. She never needed one because her Plan A rarely failed. So, trying to come up with how to fix this seemed impossible. She stood up, dried her eyes and told herself that she had to do something to fix this. “I have untold resources at my fingertips,” she said to her number one resource. “I just need to contact the right one who can help me figure this out,” said the woman not too proud to admit she needed help, and fast.

Bear howled his suggestion and it made Root smiled just a little as she reached for her phone. “Thanks, Bear,” she said, patting the canine’s head affectionately. He argued his point. “Yes, it was an effective way to get her to comply, but let’s save biting her ankle until we know where she is.”

Bear conceded even if he didn’t think she’d come up with a better alternative until he heard who she was calling.

“Gen? It’s Root. Are you busy? I need your help.”


	77. A Steady Diet of Frustration

Sameen was upset with Root for the crazy plan she concocted and almost put into place. But what she really felt furious about was that she got so involved, she had broken her number one rule in life – Never have hope; it only crushes you in the end.  
Root had given her hope that she could have the relationship she had secretly, deep down, wished for. Now, her job was to bury it so she could never find it again.

As proof of her hypothesis, Sameen was certain life was caving in and going to entomb her. She willed her heart to stop racing, but without effect. She tried to steady her breath, but it remained jagged. It was the kind of breathing that would get you killed if you were holding a sniper rifle and had to shoot.

 _Three weeks at BEAR had reduced her to useless_ , is what she decided.

She walked the numerous blocks that took her from the chic apartment building in the high rent district, all the way down to the seedy part of Manhattan where her studio apartment was. She stopped in a store, grabbing the largest bottle of whiskey she could find and threw the money down at the counter. She thought the clerk’s mouth was quivering at the harsh look on her face, until she heard the masked man behind her announce that - this was a stick-up and nobody move.

Anger shot through Sameen’s veins and moved her hand so quickly, he never saw it coming. In what was a dangerous move for most, she simply let her rolled up fist smack him square in the eye. He jerked back and pulled the gun up; the movements making the pistol go off - which _really_ pissed her off. “Sonova bitch,” she said, as she bent down and removed the gun from the groaning man’s hand and gave it to the store owner.

“Thank you, thank you,” the very anxious man said and then realized his Good Samaritan had been grazed by the bullet. “You’re shot!” he said.

Sameen looked down as if she didn’t feel the fiery pain. “And yet ….,” she said, stopping to grab the bottle of whiskey, “….. _this_ isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to me today.” Sameen looked at the graze flesh wound on her left arm. She could feel the blood slowly escaping and soaking her top.

The perpetrator was screaming and holding his eye that Sameen had hit directly. “You are crazy!” he yelled from his fetal position.

“You know, there was a time when I would have agreed with you, but let me tell you – I’ve seen crazy; I’ve been _this close_ to crazy, and Mister, and this ain’t it.”

“The police are on their way,” the store owner called as Sameen started to leave.

“Give them my regards,” she said and left the premises.

And without so much as saying it, Sameen decided it was time to go home and rebuild some walls.

* * *

Uptown, Root was having her own little skirmish.

“I’m not Yoda,” Gen said into the phone. “I’m just a kid.”

“Very valid point,” Root said, pacing in her apartment. “But I really need help here.”

There was something in Root’s voice that told the preteen that she really was desperate. Since she had seen her favorite couple just the night before, she never expected it to be an issue with Sameen. As soon as Root explained what happened, Gen bit down on her own finger to keep from getting upset.

“Could I put you on hold for just a sec,” Gen said when she had all the details.

“What? Oh, sure,” Root said, surprised at the child’s nonchalance.

Gen put the phone done and bowed her head, biting her lip, but repeating her new mantra. “ _Easy to judge, but that won’t help_. _Easy to judge, but that won’t help_.” When she had finally convinced herself that she could not help Sameen or Root by listing all the things Root did wrong, she got back on the phone.  “What’s important here, Root is that your heart was in the right place, but we have to look at this from Shaw’s point of view,” the wise child evaluated. “She’s not going to like this.”

Root listened attentively as Gen gave careful analysis to what she thought Sameen should now do with this event. “She’s going to want to shut down. Cutting off from you will be too painful for her to stand,” said the child who understood that defense mechanism. “And the worse part, Root, is she won’t be able to. So, you must give her time and approach her carefully.”

The weight of that sage advice pressed down on Root and she fell back on the couch.

“I’d ask Detective Fusco to help, too. He knows her well. And Mr. Reese might be able to add insight into what Sameen might do now,” Gen suggested, believing it would take a _Village_ to manage this repair.

“Okay, thanks, Gen,” Root said, giving careful consideration to everything the prodigy said.

“And Root?” Gen asked before hanging up. “Please find her.”

“I will, Gen,” Root promised.

Gen was worried that she couldn’t reach Sameen – now that the phone was in pieces.

Root was certain she knew how to apologize, but she was afraid the apology was a band aid on the hole she had ripped in their relationship. She had never seen Sameen so angry and that included the time she tazed, drugged and kidnapped her.

That’s because Sameen knew how to deal with being abducted. It was one of her many military skill sets. The thing she didn’t know how to do was break up with someone that she cared about, more than she wanted to admit.

* * *

“Visualize,” Sameen whispered to herself to refresh the technique she learned so many years ago. “One by one,” she said, her eyes closed as she imagined bricks being put down to build her safe place.

“Hey, 3B, ya bleedin’ on the wall there,” her less than sympathetic neighbor pointed out when he got into the elevator with her.

Shaw automatically reached for her Glock, which should have been stuffed in the waistband of her pants, but of course it wasn’t there. It was uptown, tucked away in a locked room, specifically built for it. “So stupid!” Sameen said, angry she couldn’t let it do the talking for her. She glared at the man, hoping she hadn’t lost the intimidating look, too. He backed off until they got out of the elevator.

“You should have that looked at,” her unknown neighbor said to her and it was uttered with concern.

That was the icing on the pathetic cake for Shaw. A stranger was worried about her and why? Because she reeked of weakness.

She wanted to scream at him to mind his own business, but she couldn’t. He was trying to be nice and she couldn’t yell at him. “Worse than I thought, worse than I thought,” she said, surprised at how she was unraveling. “Five…,” she said, forcing herself to continue with the visual meditation of placing brick and mortar in place to rebuild her fortress. “Six….,” she said, her mind slathering on cement and placing another brick down.

She went to twist open the liquor bottle and the pain erupted in her arm. “Sonova…,” she cursed and used her mouth to open it. Now, her lip hurt. She finally got it opened and deciding the brick building wasn’t enough, she poured the fiery liquid over her wound.

Alcohol on a gash is enough to make most mortals pass out. But not Sameen. She welcomed that piercing agony because it filled up any space where there had just been feelings. She swallowed that anguish in her arm with the longest swig of whiskey she could take. Now, her throat competed with her arm and Sameen thought this was the best way to handle her situation.

No, really, she did.

“Taking over my life,” she said, thinking how close she came to being swallowed up in Root’s world. “Barely got out….,” she said, taking another long drink because it was deadening the pain. And her arm was starting to feel better, too.

It was a win-win for Sameen.

Then, she heard it. The sound of the occupant who often visited in her absence. Part of Sameen’s brain was reminding her, that sound was one of her worst fears. But Shaw was in Operation Dominate Root mode and she wasn’t going to let anything scare her. She dragged the bottle and her arm and went to find something to help her face her fears. Of course, her good weapons were uptown, so she grabbed the only thing she could handle right now and took aim.

* * *

Fusco slammed the phone down and grabbed his coat. “Robbery downtown, I gotta go,” he said to Joss.

“Someone murdered?” she asked her homicide Detective partner.

“Not yet, but I’m expecting trouble,” he responded. “Get Tall, Dark and Handsome on the phone, would you? I might need him,”

Joss never questioned what Lionel meant. She did as he requested because that’s what partners do.

* * *

When Root couldn’t reach Fusco, she had called John. “I just need you to listen, John,” Root started the conversation and so he sat down and let her fill in the details before commenting. It didn’t tax John at all to make some assumptions about what Shaw might be doing.

“People like us….,” John started and it was the first time Root even thought about any similarity they shared. “…..like to stay in control, Root.” Root rolled her eyes when John pointed out some things she already knew. It wasn’t just the repetition, but also the slow pace at which he shared his thoughts. Root’s hand made a circular motion for him to speed it up, but John was going slowly on purpose.

“With all due respect, Root, not thinking it through is what got you into this mess. So, your next move has to be well thought out and carefully executed.”

“Well thought out and carefully executed,” Root repeated as if they were complex military phrases she was deciphering. “Got it!” she said quickly and hung up.

“She don’t _got it_ ,” Reese said, looking down at the disconnected call.

* * *

If Sameen was struggling with trying to numb the pain – physically and emotionally, Root was scrambling to get her genius brain back online. She believed that any life event could be broken down into pieces and then steps could be assigned to reach the solution. Then, Shaw’s words came back to Root – in the form of that accusation that she was going to carry out that elaborate plan for her needs, not Sameen’s.

“Dammit!” Root said, dropping her head into her hands, in part to hide her face at how stupid she felt. “She was right,” she finally said, when she picked her head up and looked at Bear.

The kind canine’s expression didn’t reflect that he already knew that. He let out a sympathetic whine and put his head down in her lap again.

“But if she’s running, Bear, do I let her go? Is that what she really wants?” Root asked, with great confusion.

As she teetered on the fence about what was best for Sameen, her phone rang and it was going to make her decision a whole lot easier.

“What the _hell_ happened to my friend?” Fusco’s voice exploded from her phone.

“Sameen? You found her? Where is she?” Root said, getting up and making her way to the elevator.

“I was kinda hoping you could tell me,” he snarled back. “Got her on camera at a bodega disarming a would-be robber and getting shot. Now, there’s blood in her elevator, her door is opened, there a cap to a bottle of whiskey, and there’s a dead mouse in her apartment. As much as that sounds like a normal day for Shaw, it’s the gunshot to the mouse that is sending up the red flag.”

“I’m coming,” Root said and made her way out of the building, Promising Bear to update him later.

Fusco didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, but he was at a loss. He searched the apartment one more time, looking for a trail of blood or some other clue.

The duct tape was out on the table, which told him his friend was on the move – armed and dangerous.


	78. Hatching a Plan

Root’s heart leaped in her chest when she thought she heard Lionel talking to Sameen, but when she rushed into the loft, she wasn’t there.

“I called her usual haunts,” Fusco explained, meaning the dive bars in the area.

“Why would she……?” Root asked, picking up the white cap and sniffing it, pulling back at the scent of cheap whiskey.

“Here’s my guess, Cocoa Puffs,” Lionel said in the same tone he used when he was collecting evidence and solving a crime, “……you did something to upset her.” For a veteran, decorated detective, that was the shortest conclusion he had ever arrived at.

“Well...,” Root said, her head gently turning and tossing her long locks.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Lionel said and started rifling through Shaw’s guns. “She’s missing some.”

“They’re in her gun room at home,” Root let out before she realized what she said.

“Gun room? At home?” Lionel asked suspiciously. Now his tone was the one he used when interrogating suspects. And right now, Root was one to him.

“Is this important right now?” Root said, defensively because of what she said.

“Do you know where to look?” Lionel said, leaning in just a bit.

Like it or not, Root needed his help and so she swallowed her pride and told him what happened. “I didn’t realize ….at the time that I wasn’t just doing it for Sameen; I was doing it …for me.”

Root’s honesty bled right through those words and it was easy for Fusco to tell how sincere and sorry she was. “Alright, look …you got resources and money to fix things. I’d be tempted to do the same,” he said, easing her guilt. What Lionel didn’t dwell on is that he still would never have done it.

“Thanks, Lionel,” Root said, appreciating his kindness.

“Yeah, well that doesn’t help us figure out where Maybelline went to. Now, if you were a drunken Persian with anger issues, where would you go?” he asked, as he paced the room.

“She must have thrown the phone away,” Root said as she dialed one more time. “The GPS says it’s underground around 57th Street.”

“You ever think about putting one in her?” Lionel spat out and then was sorry he did when the proverbial lightbulb went off over the Genius’ head.

“Where would she go?” Root thought out loud, looking out the window that hadn’t been cleaned since Sameen moved in – or ever. The opaque film made it hard to make out anything on the street below. A missing piece of glass all the way up in the right hand corner did allow sound in and Root heard something.  “I think I know where she is,” Root said, rushing out of the apartment.

Fusco did _one_ thing before running out to catch up with Root. He followed her across the street as she ran into traffic and he flashed his badge when the drivers were yelling at her. He ran behind her as she entered, what he thought was, an empty playground.

“Stay here,” Root instructed and Lionel stopped. Off in the distance, on a creaking metal merry-go-round, stood Shaw.

Lionel watched as his friend just kept spinning slowly. His phone rang and he answered it.

Root walked gradually over to where Shaw was. She could see the bottle, dangling from her right hand, her left arm taped up.

“Sameen?” she quietly called out when she got closer. The equipment was slowly coming to a stop, running out of the push that Shaw had given it before. Root stopped walking and stood there as Shaw’s twirling finally came to a halt.

As if having rehearsed it in her head, Sameen started talking. “I can’t do this, Root. I thought I could, but I’m not wired for relationships,” she started and her words stung. “It’s …the feelings….I can’t do. Some people can – you can. They come out of you – your mouth and your eyes,” Sameen said, choking up. “But me? They come out like shards of glass, Root. They cut their way out of the place I buried them in and hurt.”

Root had never heard Sameen speak so openly and it pained her to see Sameen in agony. “I caused this, Sameen. I went nuts thinking about the people who hurt you. I wanted them to pay. But I wanted it, not you and I should have seen that,” Root said, taking a careful few steps closer.

Shaw took another swig from the bottle and wiped her mouth with the same hand. Then she laughed out loud, startling Root. “You want to hear something crazy?” she asked. “I had this perfectly good Axis II Personality thing going for me. Wore that like a damn badge of honor, I was so proud of it. Nothing got past it; not people blown to bits or people crying or nothing. NOTHING, ROOT!” she yelled when she remembered what she lost.

“Sweetie, please…,” Root said inching closer when she heard Shaw’s breathing become shallow.

“I was supposed to be your bodyguard. Do you know how lame that job is? I mean, I could do it in my sleep. I only did it because Lionel wouldn’t leave me alone about getting a day job,” Shaw laughed and decided Lionel shared in this blame.

“You are my bodyguard, Sameen. You saved my life – more than once,” Root reminded her.

Shaw’s expression was one of pleading – as if she were asking Root to change it all back. “I used to …be happy …feeling nothing,” Shaw said, not seeing the irony in her statement. “Then…you. You wouldn’t leave me alone,” she said laughing, but it wasn’t a happy laugh. It was filled with frustration.

“Sameen,” Root pleaded, trying to get Shaw to look up at her as she stepped onto the other side of the merry-go-round, “….I know this doesn’t feel good, but we can go slowly, until it feels okay.”

“I don’t know who’s in control anymore, Root. My feelings just come at me, they hijack me. That isn’t good, Root,” Shaw said, not even looking at her. “I was not made for this stuff,” Shaw said, and pulled out the gun from behind her and put it to her head.

“SAMEEN!” Root yelled and put her hands out in front of her, pleading. “Somewhere in your heart, you know we belong together,” she said slowly, moving closer.

Just then, John rounded the corner and came into the park. He stood next to Lionel and watched what was playing out in front of them. “I could hit her from here,” he assured his friend as Lionel held his breath.

“I’m gonna kill her,” Lionel said of the woman who was stressing him out. “And then I’m gonna take care of Captain Crunch.”

Root was panicking. She knew Sameen was hurting, but what she didn’t know was just how far she would go to end that pain. So far, it looked like Shaw was willing to go the distance. Root’s mind raced to figure out the right thing to say. Her track record wasn’t great. She found that instead of helping the situation, she often just confused Sameen more. “Go with your strengths,” Root heard her inner voice say.

No one could outdo unreasonable like Root.

“Fine!” she said, putting her hand behind her back and retrieving Sameen’s Glock that she brought with her. “You can’t live with me, and I can’t live without you. So, let’s do this,” Root said – with conviction.

“Holy sonovabitch,” Lionel said, going for his gun. John put his hand on his friend’s arm.

“Lionel,” he said cautiously and motioned for Lionel to move around one side, while he went the other way. “If I know Shaw, that thing’s not loaded.”

“What the fuck, Root?” Shaw said, horrified that this crazy woman would upstage her. She immediately lowered the gun. “Are you insane?” Shaw said, snapping out of her drunken state at lightning speed. “Where the hell did you get that?”

“I mean it, Shaw,” Root said, not putting it down. “I’m sorry that you can’t deal with the feelings you have for me, but I would not survive the feelings of you leaving.”

“Okay, okay,” Sameen relented. “Put the gun down,” she shouted.

Lionel and John watched from the periphery. Lionel was praying to God that John was right and that Shaw’s gun would not be loaded. As soon as he finished praying, he started to plot his revenge on these two crazy people.

“I’m sorry, Sameen. I was not thinking of what you wanted. But give me another chance and I will. I promise,” Root said her actions sobering up Shaw immediately.

“Yes, another chance, yes, sure,” Shaw said, pushing her gun back in her pants and putting her hands out to Root. “We can …work this…out.”

“I’m sorry, Sameen,” Root said, because she still wasn’t handling it the right way.

“It’s okay, Root. Where did you get that?” Shaw said again.

“Your room,” Root said, tears welling in her eyes. “I took it because I thought you’d want it. I thought it would make you feel better.”

“Well, it would – if you’d lower it away from ….,” Shaw said calmly and Root did. “Good, good, now just give it to me…,” Shaw said, even though she knew it wasn’t loaded. Root handed it right to her as she apologized.

Instead of just taking the gun, Shaw pulled Root into her. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she said and Root collapsed into Shaw’s hug.

“Holy Jesus!” Lionel continued his combination of cursing and praying. “These two deserve one another.”

“I can’t …without you,” Root said again.

What Sameen was witnessing in Root, was mirroring what she was feeling inside, too. “It all makes me feel out of control,” she confessed as they stood there. “Until …I see you. And then I realize …..you are out of control. I’m just ….freaking uncomfortable.”

It wasn’t eloquent, but it was accurate.

“Tell me what to do, Sameen. I want to make it right,” Root said, her eyes pleading. “I never want to push you to the point where you want to hurt yourself.”

“That was…..a little …overboard,” Sameen said, embarrassed and unable to look Root in the eyes. “It’s a.... BB gun,” she said, her voice very low.

“It’s a … _what_?” Root said, because she had been certain it was a real gun.

“I used it….to kill a mouse,” Shaw said, explaining why she had it on her.

In the meantime, Lionel looked over at John who mouthed to him – “ _Are they ….arguing_?” The two men walked back to one another, as John whispered something in his ear. “Good idea,” Lionel said and called Joss.

“You killed …a mouse?” Root asked, thinking it was unjust.

“It was in my house,” Sameen said defensively and sounding like a Dr. Seuss book.

“You still could have hurt yourself with it,” Root said, her hands on her hips.

“You …..put a … _GLOCK_ ….to your head,” Sameen pointed out and smirked.

“Well, I didn’t think….it felt light, so I figured it wasn’t loaded….,” Root said knowing there was no defense in the world that would justify her actions.

“How did you get in my room?” Shaw asked, crossing her arms.

“I….think ….there….might…be an …override code,” Root said, looking up at the sky and cringing.

“Okay, you two,” Lionel said, getting up on the metal apparatus as John stood there. “Ms. Groves, you’re under arrest,” the detective said and read her Miranda rights.

Shaw was surprised at the bold move, but wondered if it wasn’t just punishment. Root’s ploy had been dangerous and foolish.

“What?” Root said, as Lionel told her to turn around as he placed handcuffs on her. “Oh, this is ridiculous! John!” she called, but John shrugged his shoulders as if there was nothing he could do.

“Fusco, don’t you think…..,” Shaw said, attempting to intervene when she heard him say…..”Ms. Shaw, you’re under arrest.”

“What?” Shaw bellowed in complete disbelief. “What the hell, Lionel,” she stammered. “What the hell for?”

“Drinking in a public place, brandishing a weapon, and disturbance of the peace,” Lionel said as flashing lights on patrol cars pulled up.

“Disturbance of the peace!” Shaw spat incredulously.

“Yeah, I haven’t had a moment’s peace since you and Cocoa Puffs started fighting. Now, you’re gonna get some time alone to work it all out,” the detective said. Lionel put the cuffs on Shaw in front, so he wouldn’t hurt her arm.

“You gonna add murder?” Shaw asked of her rodent kill.

“What?  For this little guy?” Lionel said, and produced the tiny mouse from his pocket. “You only stunned him.”

Shaw went quickly off the merry-go-round, pushing Root and telling her to go – go quickly.

There was something about the satisfactory smile on John’s face that made Root think he was taking credit for this. “John! Was this your idea?” she asked.

“Me?” John asked, but couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “I can’t obstruct the police,” he explained.

“John, this isn’t funny,” Root said, as the officers approached.

“No, it isn’t,” John said thinking the two of them needed a dose of reality.

“This is _not_ cool, Lionel, _not_ cool,” Shaw said, waving her cuffed fists at him. He only put them on her because he was afraid of what she might do.

* * *

“What do we have here, Detective?” Joss asked when she came upon the scene and saw Root and Sameen.

“Two love birds needing a little time to sort things out, courtesy of the NYPD, ” Fusco said, winking at John.

“And where exactly are you two going to be when they get out?” Joss asked, because hell hath no fury like a woman played.

“Well…..we….,” John said and looked at the detective.

“What are looking at me for? I …thought this was your idea,” he said to Reese.

Joss stood there and shook her head. She understood that the men’s actions were done with good intentions, but she was certain Root and Shaw would have their revenge. “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when the charges are dropped,” she said, knowing Lionel would think of something to get them off.

“Maybe …you know…we could stay ….at your house …..for a couple of days,” Lionel suggested to his partner.

“Hell, no!” Joss said emphatically. “There ain’t nowhere you two can hide that will be safe,” she laughed as she walked away.

“I’m telling Shaw this was all your idea,” Lionel said to John as they walked back.

“I’m telling Harold it was all yours,” John said, hoping to get the upper hand. Surely, Harold could call the Mayor or somebody.

“Yeah, Harold – pfft,” Lionel said. “Do you have any idea how angry that compressed Persian is going to be when they let her out?”

“Do you know how crazy Root’s going to be?” John countered.

Suddenly, both men were having second thoughts about their plan.


	79. Bogus Beef*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title means - made up charges

The one card John was holding was that he didn’t have to go to the Police Station, but Fusco sure did. He walked back into the building, acting more like the accused than the accuser. “You know, you’re out here and ….they’re …..in there, right?” Joss asked because Lionel looked more unsettled than when he dragged violent criminals in there.

“Yeah,” Lionel said, but kept staring at the door that led to the holding cells he had deposited his friends in.

“So, how long you gonna keep ‘em?” Joss teased him in a very serious voice. “You just gonna send them up the river? Cause I don’t think it would take them all of five minutes to hatch an escape plan. Is that them now?” Joss said, pulling back as if they were behind her partner. Lionel jumped in his seat, even at the thought Root and Shaw got out. Joss lost it. She laughed so hard, she was crying. “No, you just didn’t do that,” she said and Lionel told her that was not funny. Not funny at all.

Just then the Emergency Medical Team was leaving after dropping off a prisoner. “Hey, you got a minute?” Lionel asked one of them that he knew.

“You worried you going to need him?” Joss asked, and again, broke out into a laughter that caused tears to form in her eyes.

“I love how much you’re enjoying this,” Lionel said sarcastically. “Do me a favor,” he said to the EMT. “Go into that holding cell and check on the short one. Her arm got grazed before.”

“You shoot her?” the medic asked Fusco.

“What? No, she was in a robbery,” Lionel explained. He went back to his desk and opened the top drawer. “Give me your Taser,” he said to his partner.

“Don’t you have one?” Joss asked, opening her drawer and taking hers out to give to him.

“Yeah, I got one. I need more. One won’t do it,” he said, looking over to the area where the medic just entered, and listening to Shaw yelling to get the hell away from her. As soon as the door was opened, the entire precinct could hear her calling out Fusco’s name.

* * *

The women had been placed inside the holding cell by the police who brought them in. They removed Root’s cuffs as soon as they were put inside, but when Shaw said they should leave hers on because it would make it easier to choke Fusco, they decided to do just that. She was still feeling a little inebriated and so there were fewer filters than usual.

“I don’t think threatening the police while we’re in here is going to help,” Root pointed out and Shaw glared at her.

“Really, Sherlock?” she responded. It annoyed Sameen to no end that none of her retorts ever really upset Root. She just went about things as if they hadn’t just been put under arrest by their friends.

“You know, this was probably Reese’ idea,” Shaw said and outlined how she was going to kill him.

“Again,” Root said, looking around at the prisoners in the other cells, “Probably a conversation we should hold for home.”

“Do you _always_ have to be the boss?” Shaw asked and suddenly these two were breaking the monotony for the entire crowd.

“ _Ooooo, daaaamn!_ ” someone called out.

“I’m not being the boss, Sweetie, I’m just trying….,” Root countered and the crowd murmured whether they agreed or not.

“I’m here to look at your arm,” the EMT announced and Shaw asked if he would like to see the _end of her fist instead_.

“She’s a little ….tense,” Root said, trying to ease the situation.

The medic came closer and pulled his head back when he smelled the liquor. “She’s…. a little drunk,” he said and Shaw glared at him.

“I hope to remedy that as soon as I get out,” Shaw said, wondering what Fusco did with her liquor bottle.

“Two hands are better than one,” Root said in a cheery voice and took hold of Sameen’s hands as they sat on the bench in the cell. “I know how well duct tape gets the job done, Sweetie, but let him look at it in case you need….oh, I don’t know … a stitch or antibiotic.”

It was how audacious Root was in not being intimidated by anything Sameen did, that made the smaller woman insane. She had made tough men cry, but nothing seemed to work on this woman. Root swatted at Shaw’s harshness like it was gossamer.

“I could think of a use for this duct tape,” Shaw said, looking directly at Root’s lips and of course, she meant to get Root to stop talking.

But Root had other ideas.

“I know you’ve shared you’d like to see me tied up, but ….,” Root said, looking around at the men in the adjoining cells, “….I don’t think this is the place,” she whispered, as if Sameen just said something romantically suggestive.

“Root! I never said …what I meant was…..That’s…….not……you know that’s not….,” Shaw stammered, but all the time she was thrown off her guard, her mind was totally distracted and the EMT was able to peel off the sticky adhesive.

Just as Root planned it.

“Well, it’s not deep,” the EMT reported and Shaw looked at him and remarked, “No shit.” It was the alcohol that had loosened her tongue. He opened his bag, looked at Root to make sure she was still holding those hands, and proceeded to clean the cut that now had the glue in it.

“Next time, you might want to….,” the brave man was about to lecture, but Root made a guttural noise to warn him not to continue. She only had her hands on top of Shaw’s, she wouldn’t be able to hold her back if she went for him. “She can deadlift a hundred and forty-five pounds,” Root bragged.

The man stood up when he was done and Shaw suddenly smiled and tugged on his jacket. “Hey, thanks,” she said sweetly and Root realized the woman had just lifted a paperclip from his inside pocket.

“I’m sure Lionel will be in soon,” Root assured Shaw when she opened the paperclip with her mouth and started to use it in the cuff’s lock.

“Good, because I’m gonna strangle him with my bare hands,” Shaw said loudly, drawing the looks and interest of the real prisoners.

“This is all kind of my fault,” Root decided to share and Shaw wholeheartedly agreed. “I think that’s why Lionel put us in here.”

“I know, to teach _you_ a lesson,” Shaw said, thinking she was along for the ride.

“I think he’s teaching … _us_ ….,” Root shared and the group of men went silent when Shaw turned to look at her.

“ _Ooh, oh,_ ” someone said as they stared. For many, it was the first time there was so much entertainment in the holding cell.

“Are you ….kidding me?” Shaw yelled, but Root just tilted her head to the side.

“Me; because I …put that gun to my head,” Root said, trying to whisper even though every word could be heard. “And you…because well, because you’re better than this.”

“Excuse me?” Shaw said, closing the space between her and Root and not in a friendly manner. The group in the attached cells now bunched up against the bars to hear.

“Ultimately, Sameen,” Root began to explain calmly, “Lionel wants what’s best for you. He wants you to be happy. You weren’t happy today and that was my fault. So, he wants us to work things out. In here,” Root decided.

“Yeah, well I would have preferred he mind his own business,” Shaw said and a fellow prisoner echoed her sentiment. Now, small spats broke out as the men argued who was right and who was wrong.

“That’s the problem, Sweetie,” Root said, finally getting animated. “You won’t let _anyone_ help you.”

There was dead silence as the men waited for Shaw’s response. She was too stunned at the moment.

“ _Oh, see that’s true,” o_ ne of them said as if he was tuning into the latest episode. “The little one does look angry.”

“Help me? Help me? Or take over my life?” Sameen countered.

“ _Don’t let a woman run your life; it will ruin you_ ,” a man shouted out.

“I’m not trying to run your life,” Root said defensively and someone replied – “T _hat’s what they all say._ ”

“Shut the fuck up,” Shaw yelled at the crowd and some of her supporters switched sides. “ _Got a temper, that one.”_

“You …you …..do everything,” Shaw said, her words unable to complete her thoughts at the moment.

“I said I was sorry and I meant it. I said I was wrong and I meant it,” Root reiterated as she walked over to stand closer to the bars. “It’s give and take, Sameen. I’m learning, too,” Root confessed.

“Oh my God!” Sameen complained, throwing her hands up and walking to the other side of the cell. “Stop being so …so perfect!”

“I _thought she got on your last nerve_ ,” one of the interested men inquired.

“She does!” Shaw said, forgetting that she was in the midst of inmates. “Like no one I have ever known. She gets…..right…..there,” Shaw was explaining when she pounded her chest to indicate her heart. “It’s just so….annoying,” Sameen said, bowing her head as the aftermath of her drinking binge started.

One of the men, who watched the cat-fight with great interest, pushed his hand through the bars and grabbed Root’s derriere. “I could treat you well,” he said, in her ear.

The next sound anyone heard was the man screaming, as his arm was bent in a very uncomfortable position. “No one touches my girlfriend,” came the growl as Sameen got up in his face.

If the woman had just ridden up on a black horse, Root wouldn’t have been more impressed. “Oh, Sameen,” Root said, grabbing Shaw’s head and pulling her into the longest, hottest kiss. “I love you,” Root said, when the biting stopped and she released her.

“I know,” Shaw said, swallowing hard.

The men applauded and whistled. “Alright, alright,” Fusco said, feeling it might be safe with all these witnesses to come back in. “Show’s over,” he said and the men whined that their favorite fellow jailbirds were leaving.

“Now, Shaw, I’m going to open this door. But I’m armed and dangerous,” Lionel said unconvincingly.

“You may be armed, Lionel, but I can see the sweat staining your collar from here,” Shaw snarled, but Root had a different attitude altogether.

“I think Lionel just did us a big favor,” the ever upbeat woman announced.

“Thank you!” Lionel said as Sameen walked out of the cell. “Wait, really?” he asked Root.

“No, but it’s better if she plots her revenge from home. It’ll give you time to get away,” Root said, following her compact Persian fireball as she ranted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading along and esp to those who posted your thoughts.  
> You guys are terrific.


	80. Having Her Cake and Eating It, Too

Sameen marched out of the police station without so much as a care that most of her monologue was how she was going to make Fusco pay. And Reese.

“Did you see that smug look on his face?” she asked, but wasn’t expecting an answer. “They think they’re so smart.”

Root nodded her head, but she actually liked the idea of being locked up with Sameen. She would have preferred that no one else be there; and the cell could have been smaller; and maybe they could have had no clothes......

“ROOT!” Sameen demanded, because Root had the silliest smile of her face in the midst of her diatribe. “What …could…you …possibly…find…pleasant …about … _any_ …of this?” She said it slow so Root would get it.

“I liked the part where you kissed me,” Root admitted freely.

“ _You_ …kissed …me,” Shaw reminded her, even though she had been a very receptive and willing party. It annoyed Sameen when everyone wasn’t on the same page and right now, she was on the ‘plot your revenge’ page.

“Let’s get dinner,” Root said because it was getting late.

“I want steak,” Shaw said, because she did her best thinking when she was eating.

“Anything to keep you happy,” Root said, looking around for the closest restaurant near them. She sent a flurry of texts now that she had her phone back. She let Gen know that Shaw was okay and got back an immediate response of thanks. She let Harold know they were both fine and he responded quickly that he had been worried. She ordered a new phone for Shaw because she didn’t want to be out of touch. Then, she gave thought to what Lionel had suggested.

* * *

“You know, Fusco says he won’t release my guns from evidence for a couple of days,” Shaw announced as they sat down to dinner. “I have to get him back for this afternoon.”

“I don’t think we look all that bad,” Root noted when she looked in a pocket mirror, “…for a couple of gals who spent the afternoon in prison.”

Shaw stopped chewing on the bread and looked over at her. “A _couple of gals?_ Who talks like that?”

“I do,” Root said, perfectly comfortable with her vernacular. “Besides, I really enjoyed it.”

Shaw shook her head and looked right at Root across the table. “Why am I not surprised?”

* * *

The meal was finally brought out and the more Shaw ate, the more thoughts came to her. “So, when do you think you’re going to apologize for scaring the hell out of me?” she asked, remembering the image of Root holding a gun to her head.

“I know it seemed a little …dramatic,” Root admitted, as she took another bite of her salmon. “But the sentiment was very real.”

“Root, you can’t go around putting a gun to your head every time I threaten to leave. I mean, we don’t know what …what all of this ….. will lead to,” Shaw proffered. This was the longest relationship she had ever been in.

Someone else might have been discouraged by Shaw’s words that casted doubt, but Root believed with her whole heart they were meant to be together forever. These was simply no doubt in her mind. Her job was to give Shaw the space she needed to realize that, too. Root’s idea of ‘ _space_ ’ was to be alongside Shaw while she wrestled with it; cheering her on.

“You put one to yours,” Root said, taking a forkful of the rice pilaf. She always felt braver confronting Sameen when she was eating.

When Shaw decided being alone in the word was best for her, what followed was that rules that applied to everyone else, didn’t necessarily apply to her. And while she was chewing and trying to decide on her answer, Root added – “How are you going to teach me about being responsible with guns, if you’re not responsible with them?” It sounded like a very plausible question, but it was also Root’s way of letting Shaw know she wasn’t pleased with what she did.

Sameen chewed slowly as she took that in. “Okay, okay,” she conceded, “…yes, that was very irresponsible of me, even if mine wasn’t a real gun. But, your point is well made, and you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Root said, completely satisfied that Sameen understood.

Shaw looked down at her plate, wondering how it was that she wound up apologizing, even though Root was the one who used a real gun. “So, tell me about this override code on ‘my’ gunroom,” Sameen said, remembering that part. She ripped into a large piece of steak that was meant to be as intimating as it looked.

“I…thought….,” Root hesitated to explain. “…suppose you got stuck in there?” she proposed as a plausible event.

“I’d…shoot my way out?” Shaw pointed out and her expression read – nice try, Root.

“I only did that because I thought you would want to play with your Glock,” Root shared her second, equally lame, reason.

Shaw put her knife and fork down and folded her hands in front of her. “Root, one does no play with their guns. You really have a lot to learn,” she said, going back to her last bite of meat.

“I …really…do,” Root said, dreamily, thinking about what kind of teacher Shaw would be. “What _else_ are you going to teach me?” she asked, just as Shaw sipped her water and the waiter reappeared. Sameen choked and the waiter stopped moving.

Root had impeccable timing. And the most salacious smile on her face when Shaw looked over at her.

They ordered dessert and Shaw decided two could play this game. Tsk, tsk, Shaw.

“Okay, so you want me to teach you about guns. I’m not easy. I have a reputation for being very tough,” she shared, thinking Root might want to reconsider her ploy.

“I’m hoping you have a reputation for being very hands on,” Root suggested and it took Sameen a second to get that, of course, she didn’t mean it in the conventional sense.

“Firearms are a very serious business,” Shaw said when the waiter brought over a large piece of cheesecake and two forks. She took a piece that barely fit in her mouth and repeated that there would be no fooling around Root’s weapon lessons.

Root reached over and gently held Shaw’s jaw as she slowly wiped her finger across her lower lip that was covered in bits of cheesecake. Sameen wanted to pull away, but her lip was swelling with desire as Root’s finger came dangerously close to pushing itself inside her mouth. Root released Sameen and put the dessert draped finger into her own mouth. So sensual was Root’s move, that Sameen’s eyes locked onto it and couldn’t seem to break away.

Root understood that her touch was powerful, but she also realized that it could throw Sameen, too.

“So, when do my lessons begin?” Root asked, taking a bite of Shaw’s cake because she was teaching her to be more comfortable with sharing.

It took Sameen another minute, but she stopped feeling the sensation on her lip long enough to notice Root was eating her cake. “What….,” she asked, pulling it towards her a little more. “Don’t you want your own?”

“No,” Root said truthfully and calmly, as she reached past Sameen’s hand and took another bite. “I want to bite yours.”

“You mean, you want a bite of…..oh,” Sameen said, looking up at the devilish grin Root wore as she licked the fork.

But if Root wanted it so badly, perhaps, Shaw thought, that is what she would teach her – that she couldn’t have everything she wanted, when she wanted it.

_Note to Sameen:….. Root prided herself on always being one step ahead._

“Okay, let’s go,” Shaw said and explained that now was as good a time as any to learn about weapons.

* * *

The two made their way back to the Penthouse where Bear was waiting for them. Root went to bend down and hug him as he sat in the doorway, but he growled until she stood back. The next minute was filled with various howls that sounded angry at times.

“But…,” Root said and the dog literally barked over her; his long discourse taking on new highs and lows.

“Looks like you’re in the doghouse, which in this house isn’t really a bad thing,” Shaw teased and laughed at her own joke until the dog turned to her.

In a bark that sounded very much like – _And you! You should know better!_ – the canine’s howls were directed at Shaw.

He got up and walked in circles as he pressed his message about how foolish the two of them had been.

“I told Daan not to let him watch TMZ,” Root whispered because she imagined he got the news of the foolish escapade from the television.

As if sensing Root was going to cut back on his TV privileges, the dog went to the phone and hit a button with his paw. Instantly, Reese’s voice came across the message. “ _Bear? This is Reese. I wanted to let you know Root and Shaw are okay. Unfortunately, they were playing with guns in the park today and were picked up by the police……”_

“Reese told on …..us….to…..to….Bear?” Shaw stammered.

Bear growled that wasn’t the point, but Shaw was furious. “I’m going to get both of them, both of them back,” she said as she paced because no one got away with this.

Root definitely sided with Sameen, but she didn’t want her all worked up – unless it was about her.

“We’ll plan something big, right after you teach me how to hold a gun,” Root said and Shaw agreed.

Root seemed so anxious to learn, that Shaw hoped it had something to do with how they would get even with the annoying men. Minutes later, as Shaw stood in her gunroom and took out a gun she thought would be a good start for Root – since she wasn’t exactly a novice, Root yelled in – asking what the first lesson would be.

“I want to teach you how to properly hold a gun,” Shaw thought out loud. “I’ve seen you shoot. You’re not bad, but you can do better.”

“Yes!” Root said enthusiastically and Shaw admired her willingness to learn.

Root walked in and Shaw handed her a gun without looking up. “Now, hold it firmly in this hand,” Shaw said, taking Root’s hand and standing alongside her so close Root could feel Sameen. “And cover it with this one,” she instructed, holding Root’s hands in place with her own.

“Like this?” Root asked and Shaw nodded, stepping back to see Root’s posture.

“You’re….. in your underwear,” Shaw said, unable to imagine that this was in fact, the first thing Root thought of when they talked about gun lessons.

“I don’t want to get gunpowder on my clothes,” Root smiled.

“We’re not.... going to fire them. They’ll be.... no explosions,” Shaw explained impatiently; her eyes inexplicably drawn to Root’s shape.

“Says you,” Root said, moving alongside Shaw and pushing her bare shoulder into her. “I’m pretty sure there will be at least one or two,” Root said softly in Shaw’s ear. “I’ve got incredible aim.”

That concluded the first gun lesson of the night.


	81. Like Taking Candy from a Baby

One of the most perplexing things about Root to Sameen was that she seemed to be incredibly sweet and wild – all wrapped up neatly, in one person. She was surprised she wasn’t suffering from whiplash with how quickly Root could turn from interested student to seductress in seconds. It wasn’t even that Root was more experienced than Sameen. Root was just highly motivated. And if pushing and pulling were what turned Sameen on, Root was happy to oblige.

“They’re going to think we beat each other up,” Sameen noted the next morning when she noticed a new bruise on her good arm where Root had gently bit her. Root loved how carried away they became in the midst of their lovemaking.

Smiling devilishly at the mark she left, Root rubbed her own tailbone. “At least you can sit down without discomfort today.” Shaw often forgot how easily she could pick the taller woman up - and throw her down.

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry,” Sameen said, worried she really didn’t know her own strength.

“It’s okay,” Root said, because anything that reminded her of their intense foreplay was okay with her. Sameen was smiling to think Root was always trying to make her feel better, when Root added -

“If anyone asks, I’ll just tell them you spanked me.”

Root waited …..and there it was! The stammering, denying, suggesting she not do that …from her tough girlfriend. “Root – people will think ….that’s not a good idea. I mean we don’t…want ….okay, no,” Sameen uttered, never finishing a thought because now they were in the kitchen and Root was placing fresh fruit in Sameen’s mouth. “Besides, I will deny it!” she finally proclaimed.

“I don’t know….,” Root said slowly, as she placed another piece of watermelon too tempting for Sameen to refuse. She would have swatted Root’s hand away and taken the fruit, but she was using both of hers at the moment to declare how emphatic she was about this. “Look at those _toned_ arms,” Root said, running her fingers up Sameen’s tight muscles. “I think people would believe it.”

“Just….stop,” Shaw finally said, now pulling the fruit from Root’s hands and glaring at her.

“I’ve seen grown men’s mouths drop open when you walk past them and you’re turning it on,” Root said because she had always watched Sameen’s move. “But _I_ can make you blush?” Actually, Root loved the idea that she could do that; counting it as one of her superpowers.

“With them…,” Shaw said defensively, “…it was a game. This…between us …is…not,” Shaw explained and it was like poetry to Root’s ear.

“Got it,” Root said, leaning over and kissing the fruit drenched lips.

Shaw realized she just said that to the woman who made foreplay a sport, but she hoped she knew what she meant. She loved not having to explain everything she said to Root.

* * *

The couple went on their merry way to work where Root was sure she’d spend a great part of her morning assuring Harold that she hadn’t gone crazy and, contrary to his belief, that whole incident would not be written down somewhere in her permanent record. Harold could be so old school sometimes.

Sameen’s skill at compartmentalizing her life was working overtime over one particular thing. But, she knew it was a matter of time before her feelings sprang forward. She needed professional advice. This is why she did exactly the opposite.

“Look at this, Shaw,” Fusco said in his friendliest voice as he approached her desk. “My boss thinks it’s a wise use of my time to come here and deliver your ….items,” he said, gently putting a bag down that contained her BB gun and Glock. “Neither is loaded, you should know.”  He knew he couldn’t avoid Sameen for the rest of his life, and she had a really good memory, so he figured approaching her in public might be the best alternative.

Shaw stood up and punched him in the arm. “OUCH!” he said, immediately rubbing the wounded area. “Come on, it didn’t kill you to deal with a consequence now, did it?” he tried to assuage her anger.

“I haven’t begun to get even with you for that,” Shaw said, looking around.

“What was this for then?” Fusco said, always amazed at how powerful a punch this compact woman could deliver.

“Oh, that’s to remind me to take care of you later …for yesterday,” Sameen said, figuring he’d keep bellyaching about it and that would remind her she didn’t get even yet.

“You know it was Reese’s idea, right?” Fusco tried and Shaw scrunched up her face and assured him there’d be plenty of payback to go around.

“Look!” Shaw said, still twisting around to make sure no one was within earshot. “You know how desperate I have to be to come to you for advice, right?” Her expression was sincere as she waited for Lionel to answer.

“Well, _thanks_. How can I be of service?” Lionel said, feeling numbness in his arm where Sameen hit a nerve.

“I …have a situation and I am kinda lacking in experience with this. You strike me as the desperate type in a relationship, so I figure you know how to ….handle this,” Shaw said, coughing at the end to get the words out.

“Again, thanks. Why not ask Captain America over there?” Lionel asked of John, who was at the other end of the hall.

“No!” Shaw said. “He’s me. You’re …..okay, you’re not Root, but I figure you probably say it first all the time. So, yeah…….” In Sameen’s head, she had given all the necessary details.

Fusco stared at his friend, trying to decipher what it was she was talking about – in a kind of insulting, callous, megalomaniac kind of way. Now, given the man’s profession, and the fact that he was good at it, it took him a minute, but he finally figured it out.

“She said I love you first?” he guessed like a contestant on Jeopardy. His exuberant tone was met with another slap to his arm.

“I swear to God, Shaw, if you put your hand up one more time, I will personally handcuff you to that desk. I’m a NYPD Detective, for God’s sake,” he threatened, promising himself that he would bring a Taser next time.

“Does everything have to be about _you_?” Shaw asked, annoyed that he wasn’t giving her any insights.

“Do you have to talk with your fists?” Fusco said, because he didn’t think it was fair he couldn’t hit back.

“Come on kids, there’s plenty of ice cream for everybody,” Reese said, as he approached the two friends squabbling.

“Root said she loved Shaw first,” Lionel finally deciphered and shared with John.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Shaw said, sinking into her chair and banging her head on the desk asking herself why she did this.

“Yeah?” John said since he was a man of few words.

“You ever say it first?” Lionel turned his attention to John as he admired his friend’s prowess.

John took the question seriously and looked up at the ceiling to think it over. “Not really,” he said because he kept everything close to the vest. It wasn’t always the wise thing to do.

“Why? Why?” Shaw groaned with her face down on her hands. It was almost as if she was out of the conversation.

“You?” John asked and it annoyed Sameen that they two men just kept conversing over her about her topic.

“Yeah, “ Lionel confessed openly. “Hurts like hell when they don’t say it back.” He was half serious; half leading her on because he knew this is where Sameen was going with this.

“What?” she asked suddenly interested in the boys’ discussion. “What does _that_ mean?”

“Oh, yeah, true,” John said even though he had little experience in this. He, too, was rarely in a long term relationship, like Shaw.

In spite of the fact that Lionel and John were at different levels of suave, they were remarkably on the same wavelength when it came to torturing Shaw. “Well, you know….,” Lionel would start and John would complete that sentence with – “….when you don’t say it back…..,” John drew it out slowly and Lionel finished with – “….makes the person who said it, feel bad.”

Hadn’t they just said that?

“I swear to God, you two suck. You are the worst advice givers in the entire world,” Shaw bellowed.

“Well, it’s fixable, Shaw,” John assured her.

“Oh, yeah, sure it is,” Lionel said, because he had every faith in John that he knew what he was talking about.

Now, as much as Sameen wanted to stick her fingers in her ears; she was tempted…to at least…hear John out.

“Flowers,” John said because he didn’t believe in long sentences.

“Oh, yes and candy,” Lionel added, because it was a simple equation.

Shaw scrunched up her face in skepticism. “I don’t think ….that’s going to make up for…..not….,” she postulated.

“Oh, no, it won’t make up for it. It’s a start,” John explained as if he were the expert.

“And grovel, that helps. It would for me,” Fusco said, getting confused on which side of the discussion he was on.

“I’m _not_ going …to do …that,” Shaw said, distressed at the thought.

“Which? The flowers? The candy?” John asked to be sure.

“Or the groveling?” Fusco added because if any of the women had asked for his forgiveness, it would have been very effective.

Now Fusco looked more confused that she did. Sameen rolled her eyes, shook her head and decided this was a big mistake. Her choices were severely narrowed down now. “Why would I even tell them?” she asked herself out loud as she walked away from her sophomoric counselors.

“Women!” Reese said.

“Don’t call Shaw that,” Lionel said.

“Well, she is one. You do know that, right, Lionel?” John asked because sometimes he thought Lionel thought of Shaw as his best Bro.

He did.

* * *

What Sameen had hoped for was for Lionel to tell her that just because he expressed his feelings first by declaring those three words, didn’t mean that he gave up on the relationship. She wanted him to say – things worked out in spite of that verbal inequity. She wanted to feel better and she didn’t. So, she went with the only option she had left.

Fortunately for Iris, she was in her office and not the ladies’ room.

The secretary was just explaining for the umpteenth time that Sameen could not just barge in and Sameen was explaining for the same amount of times, that she wasn’t going to – even though she might have – when the door flew open and a very visibly upset Janine emerged, a tissue held to her lips. She stopped in her tracks and took one long look at Sameen, and burst out crying.

Sameen looked at her as she ran away. “Janine,” Shaw called out and looked at Iris, who stood in the doorway.

“Give her….some space,” Iris suggested, because she had just spent the better part of the session helping Janine come to terms with her issue.

“Did I…?” Sameen asked when Iris held the door opened for her to come in.

“No,” Iris assured her.

“But she….,” Shaw said, still looking where Janine had stood moments before.

“She’s dealing with a tender issue right now,” is all Iris would say about it. “And how are you?” she asked as she sat down next to the pad and pen that were always on the end table.

Suddenly, Sameen acted as if she had no idea why she was there. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and walked about Iris’ office, surveying it as it if were the first time. “Finally!” she let out when she saw the glass jar of individually wrapped round peppermints on Iris’ desk. She picked the jar up and brought it with her as she sat back down on the couch. “Finally, took the hint?” Shaw asked, certain it had been her idea.

“Indeed I did,” Iris said, wondering what brought her favorite client in to see her. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” Shaw said, unwrapping a candy and popping it in her mouth. Now Iris remembered why she didn’t keep candy in her office. Her patients sounded like they were talking with marbles in their mouths.

“Eese and Usco are id a whole lod of trouble,” Shaw said, because it was foremost in her mind, but then she remembered who she was talking to. “Oh,” she uttered.

“And how are you doing?” Iris tried again.

Shaw smiled uncomfortably and took the candy out of her mouth, replacing it in the wrapper and shooting it across the room, sinking it right into Iris’ wastepaper basket. _CLUNK_! The therapist didn’t blink. She just waited patiently.

Sameen knew the drill; Iris could last longer in silence than she could.

“Root said she loved me and ….I didn’t say anything back,” Shaw confessed because she had been trained on how to handle difficult interrogations.

Unfortunately for Shaw, or fortunately for her, depending on how you look at it, Iris was simply going to wait for her to say more.


	82. Sometimes You Feel Like a Nut, Sometimes You Don't

Shaw had been in Iris’ office enough times that she now had a routine. It was as if her brain had to catch up to the fact that she initiated the visit, and that Iris had not summoned her there for a conference.

“You should get chocolates instead,” Shaw finally said, still looking around the room. “Like Kisses or something small. Not M&M’s because, contrary to popular belief, they do melt in your hands,” she added and wiped her palms along her thighs as they started to get clammy.

“You prefer chocolate?” Iris asked, aware that they were taking time to get back what Shaw just said.

“Pfft – who doesn’t prefer…chocolate?” Sameen answered, aware of just how far off topic she was getting. She shook her head and chastised herself for being anxious about a little ole therapy. She sucked in a deep breath and sat up straight, the way soldiers do when they’re about to accept their fates. “It happened…..yesterday….,” Sameen started slowly. “When ..we were ….(cough) in the jail cell.”

“I’m sorry …what?” Iris said, because it sounded like Sameen said _…. jail cell_.

“Jail cell,” Sameen repeated, pursing her lips together. “Which ….by the way….was…,” and she was this close to saying ‘ _your boyfriend’s fault’_ , but she actually caught herself. Instead, she said – “….not our fault.”

“Okay, how did that happen?” Iris asked, thinking they needed to back up a little. Iris meant to the beginning of the story, but Sameen was going to go one step at a time in reverse.

“Ugh,” she uttered, just thinking about it. “All because of the guns, which neither of us would have actually used to shoot ourselves,” she continued and Iris slowly reached for the pen and pad, not wanting to miss a detail of this. “I don’t mean each other,”Sameen clarified. “I had a gun to my head and then…then, not to be outdone, Root put one to hers. Can you believe that?” she said, remembering how upset she was about that.

“I’m trying to,” Iris admitted as she tried desperately to fill in the missing pieces. “Sameen, help me out here,” she started. “Why did you …both of you …have guns?”

“Oh,” Sameen said, recognizing she was going to have to reveal even more things now. “I…had one…..because…of …a rodent problem I have,” she threw out there, thinking it sounded reasonable.

“You …shoot them?” Iris asked, and couldn’t help her eyebrows from rising.

“I…am afraid of them and was facing my fear……,” Shaw explained, hoping the therapist would give her kudos for doing that on her own time.

“By shooting them?” Iris asked again.

“I know, I know,” Sameen said, thinking she’d allow Iris to get off topic here. “You probably would suggest …what did Root call it? _Systematic desensitization_ where you expose the person to the thing they’re afraid of a little at a time, right? Like, you’d have the mouse in a cage over there on your shelf, and the next time I come, it would be on your desk, and then finally it would be next to me until I stop freaking out about it,” Sameen said.

“Why was Root discussing _systematic desensitization_?” Iris asked out of curiosity.

“Because Root wanted to handcuff me…..,” Shaw let out remembering how Root tried to coyly suggest she handcuff her to get over her fear of being ‘ _tied down_ ’. Hearing how easily she was letting things slip out was starting to unnerve Sameen. “Never mind about that. Suffice it to say that I shot the mouse and went out for a walk when Root found me in the park. I was on the merry-go-round, is that important?” Sameen asked.

“It’s all important,” Iris pointed out as she jotted down a few more notes.

“Yeah, well – the merry-go-round, which is significant because it used to make me throw up until I forced myself to ride it for hours when …I was younger. And then, Fusco was there and Reese. I think I should point out that the two of them are always causing trouble. Reese, I get because I think he has too much free time, but Fusco you would think would be kind of busy. Maybe murder rates are down?” Sameen careened off course.

Iris was going to need a lasso to get Shaw back on topic. “So, you were in the park with your gun and Root found you. Were you ….trying to get away?”

Sameen smiled. “You’re…good,” she laughed. “You’re very good.” She grinned until Iris asked if she would answer the question and then she wasn’t so thrilled with the good therapist.

“I…needed space. You know, Root has a particular way of viewing things. She can be very single minded sometimes and if she gets an idea in her head, she carries through,” Shaw explained.

“So, you were trying to get away from something Root was doing?” Iris surmised.

All of Sameen’s training prepared her to take responsibility for her actions. “Yes,” she said, looking away and biting her lip.

“And Root found you,” Iris added.

“Yes! I don’t know how because I smashed my phone on 57th Street and threw it away, but she did. Probably Fusco after he got a call about the robbery where ….I got grazed,” Shaw said.

“You were shot?” Iris asked, trying to keep her tone even. She just never knew what was going to come out of this woman’s mouth.

“Grazed,” Sameen clarified. “Big difference. But yes, I went back to my apartment to tape it and someone must have called Fusco. I swear if I park illegally down there, someone calls him. Anyway, he called Root when he couldn’t find me. She found me in the park and the two of them came running. You can’t get a moment’s peace with them.”

“Why did Root have a gun?” Iris asked as she watched Sameen.

“She said she was bringing it to me. It’s my favorite one and she knew I was upset. But then, when I put that stupid BB gun to my head, she went and put that Glock to hers!” Sameen recalled angrily. “It wasn’t loaded, but still….Doc, you should be talking to her about that.”

Iris would love to talk to Root about that, but Sameen was the one in her office. “She put a gun to her head because you put one to yours?”

“Dramatic, I know,” Shaw shook her head.

“Sameen, what made you do that?” Iris asked concerned about the woman’s state of mind.

Shaw got it immediately. “Did I mention…I was…drunk?”

“No,” Iris said, but didn’t write that down. She’d remember that.

“Look, Doc, you of _all_ people should get this,” Shaw said with feeling. “You’re the one who is turning me into a …a …touchy-feely kind of person. Root overloads me – and when she wanted to take charge of my life, I freaked. It all came at me and I regressed,” Shaw said, smart enough to use the therapist’s vernacular. “I went home, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, subdued a robber, got shot, went to my apartment, shot the mouse, went to the playground to get away from said mouse and that’s where Root found me. Now, here’s the interesting part,” Sameen said as if the first several sentences didn’t have Iris’ full attention. “I was just overwhelmed. I felt out of control and the only way I knew how to handle that was…..”

“To hurt yourself?” Iris asked, because even the threat of putting a gun to your head is a message.

Sameen stared hard at her for a long time before she conceded and said – “Yes.”

“And Root decided she wouldn’t let you do that, so she threatened to do the same?” Iris inquired, making sure she got the details straight.

“You can’t startle Root. If you say you’re going to jump off the George Washington Bridge, Root will scale to the very top and jump first,” Shaw shared.

“What happened when she did that?” the therapist asked in a soft voice because they were getting to the heart of the matter here.

“It scared the hell out of me!” Sameen answered automatically. “And I don’t do scared.”

“But it sounds as if you were very afraid of what Root would do,” Iris pointed out and Sameen’s shoulders caved and she let out a sigh. She hated this part where Iris turned her words back on her. It was a good thing she liked this woman, or she’d be tempted to intimidate her.

“She doesn’t know how to handle a gun. I mean, she can shoot. I’ve seen her do that. But, do you know who taught her about guns? Reese! Who knows what he taught her. So, yeah, I was scared. She could have hurt herself,” the patient shared.

“You have genuine feelings for Root, Sameen. And this is all new to you,” Iris declared because she had really been listening all the times Shaw visited her.

“Yeah, I guess,” Shaw said, rolling her eyes.

“You were very concerned that she would be impulsive enough to hurt herself,” the therapist added.

“Impulsive? That’s Root on any given day. This was ….over the top, Doc,” Shaw clarified.

“And she did that because she was afraid of what you were going to do,” Iris said.

Each time they came back to Sameen’s part, she felt embarrassed about that. “Yeah, it was not like me. But that’s the thing, Doc. Root makes me feel all kinds of things that I don’t recognize.”

“Is that a bad thing, Sameen?” Iris asked.

“Yes! No!” Sameen answered quickly. “I just …don’t always know what to do.”

“Tell me about Root saying _I love you_ ,” Iris asked.

“Fusco decided to arrest us and I swear, Reese put that idea in his head,” Sameen said, wondering why they never had to talk to their therapists for their actions. “You should write that down somewhere,” Shaw suggested. “We were in the holding cell, because Fusco thinks he’s funny, but he’s not. And we were arguing about how I don’t want anyone to help me and how Root is perfect and then someone touched her and I DAMN NEAR BROKE HIS ARM,” Shaw said, shouting the last few words as she recalled her anger.

Iris made a mental list of all the important things Shaw just shared. Accepting help was very hard for Sameen, but the very fact she was sitting on the couch telling her all of this was a step in the right direction. Sameen thought Root was perfect and that probably was because Root was being flexible in trying to make this relationship work. And she had an intense sense of protectiveness. Something, Iris decided, was probably because Sameen didn’t feel she had it growing up.

Iris waited a minute until Shaw’s breathing returned to normal before she asked; if that’s when Root said she loved her.

“Yes,” Sameen confirmed.

“And you felt…?” Iris prompted.

“I felt…,” Shaw answered immediately, but the rest didn’t come so quickly. “Pressured.”

“To say it back?” Iris filled in the blank.

“Yes,” Shaw said.

What followed was Iris’ carefully crafted questions to Shaw, to get her to see that Root wanted to say that, and did so without expectation of Shaw’s response. That it sounded as if Root wasn’t acting hurt by the fact that Sameen had not said it back. Iris had this way of making Shaw entertain the possibility that the way she was handling this relationship was okay. And that it was alright because Root accepted Shaw for who she was.

“Sometimes I hate that about her,” Shaw confessed and Iris smiled at her honesty.

Sameen wasn’t sure what it was, but she felt better as the session drew to a close, and she stood up to leave.

“Maybe the candy is a bad idea,” Sameen said, before she left. “Might stop some people from talking.”

Iris agreed and thanked her. She knew by ‘some people’, Shaw meant herself.

Shaw walked out feeling like now she could concentrate on getting even with Reese and Fusco.

After she ordered flowers and candy.


	83. Out to Lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It helps that you know these characters ....so well. See below - lol.

Sameen sat at her desk, wondering if her gifts were the appropriate gesture for Root. “Nothing is ever easy,” she bemoaned when she considered what her girlfriend would really like. She stood up and saw that there was no one around and went back to her computer screen. “I swear, if anyone sees me doing this,” she whispered to herself as she put in her card number and clicked express delivery. She hurried and shut down all the windows. Then, she heard the soft sniffling and it reminded her how she last saw Janine. She walked down to the woman’s cubicle where she noticed a large pile of bunched up mascara stained tissues in the wastepaper basket.

“Janine? “ Shaw asked, looking around as if she was searching for the person who should be helping out here.

“Oh, Sameen!” the woman cried when she saw who came to check on her. It seemed even though she was relieved to see Shaw, the crying was getting louder.

“Are…you…okay?” Shaw asked, even though it was obvious that she wasn’t. “You want me to get …,” Sameen said, turning around and not seeing one person she could summon there.

“He.... broke up with me!” she wailed and Shaw cringed because she thought maybe she could handle a life threatening illness, but not romantic issues.

 _Anything_ , but that.

Janine took full advantage of her friend’s kindness and pulled Shaw down into the chair next to her desk. The black eye-makeup was streaming down her cheeks now as she tried to talk, but each time she got to his name, she bawled. She pulled her chair up very close to Sameen; who pulled back in the seat, but Janine laid her head in Shaw’s lap anyway.

“Oh, God,” Shaw uttered, her arms flung out above her shoulders. “Uhmmm,” Shaw murmured, her head twisting and praying for anyone who could handle this to appear. The woman’s head was bobbing in her lap from crying. “O…kay,” Sameen finally said and put one hand on Janine’s back and patted it awkwardly. “Maybe you want to see Dr. …..,” she tried, but the wounded woman wasn’t having any of it.

“Nooooo,” she cried. “I was in there before.” She squeezed Shaw’s thighs just in case she was thinking of leaving.

“Okay…okay,” Shaw assured her, summoning up a calm tone unlaced with sarcasm.  “Maybe…Root….Root is good at this,” Shaw suggested because she was starting to feel claustrophobic.

“But… you’re…. my…. friend,” Janine wept and Shaw nodded her head; the woman had a point.

“Okay, why don’t you …sit up here…,” Sameen suggested, gently grabbing the sobbing woman by the shoulders and pulling her up so they could talk face to face. “Oh, you ….have….,” Sameen pointed, trying delicately to tell the woman that she looked like something out of a horror show with black eyes and cheeks. “Here,” Shaw said, and tried to hand Janine the tissue, but she stuck her chin out and asked – “Where?”

“Where?” Shaw repeated and wanted to say – _EVERYWHERE_ – but put the tissue in Janine’s hand and guided it to cover her two cheeks. “There….and there….and over here.”

Unbeknownst to the uncomfortable comforter, someone was watching the whole thing play out and she couldn’t have been prouder of Sameen.

“Who is…he?” Shaw asked, looking down at her pants and wondering how much makeup transferred to her lap.

“Devlin….in Accounting,” Janine shared and pulled herself together.

“Accounting?” Shaw asked as if Janine had said he was worked in a mortuary.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Janine said, not moving her chair back, but at least sitting upright now. “How did a girl like me get so lucky to meet a great guy like Devlin,” Janine said and Shaw started shaking her head out of protest.

“No…,” Sameen replied, about to contradict the woman’s assumption.

“But we just hit it off from the start. We were so haaaaapppppppy,” and the memory made her cry the last word out and she attempted to put her head down again, but Sameen was too quick. She put her hands out and pulled her back up and asked her what happened. Even though, more details were the LAST thing Sameen wanted.

“We had decided not to date anyone else and I didn’t think that meant we couldn’t ….look,” Janine presented her very weak side of the story.

“Well, were you looking and touching…..or just looking?” Sameen asked and suddenly Root became very interested in the conversation that was going on in that cubicle. She may have been hidden out of sight, but she had excellent hearing.

“We…touched…and it was like magic,” Janine explained and quickly added, “..But not in that way. We touched, kinda by accident, but it was still ……electric.”

“Well, maybe…..,” Sameen started, but truthfully – she had nothing. “Why did he break up?” she asked.

“I told him. I thought since nothing happened, it wasn’t a big deal. He got all huffy, asking me who the guy was and that he would kill him,” Janine explained in excruciatingly slow detail.

“Yeah, guys are funny that way,” Shaw thought, testing the waters to see if she could move in her chair, but Janine’s hand flew out to hold her in place.

“When I wouldn’t tell him who it was, he broke up with me. But I was afraid,” Janine cried. “He’s really, really big.”

“I’m having trouble getting my head around a pencil pusher being all that threatening,” Sameen admitted since most of those guys seemed like nerds – and that was out of a whole building of nerds.

Root bit her lip at how funny Shaw could be when she was being so honest.

“Does the …person …who gave you the jolt, work here?” Shaw said, getting her advice ready so she could leave.

“Yes,” Janine said, hoping Sameen was picking up on the clues she had given.

She wasn’t.

“Well, maybe you …you know…could avoid ….Mr. Electricity and make it up to …Devon,” Shaw suggested.

“Devlin,” Janine corrected her.

“Whatever, the point is ….you want him back, right? So, go tell him you’re sorry…”

“But I’m not,” Janine corrected her. “I will never forget that touch.”

“O…kay,” Shaw said, thinking this was way out of her league.

Root had less time than Shaw to put it together, but she figured it out. She appeared out of nowhere and explained – “You know, I couldn’t help but overhear your situation, dear.”

“Oh, Root, thank God!” Shaw said sincerely and went to get up to give Root her seat, but Root pushed in between the two women and pressed herself up on the desk to sit. She reached over and took a shiny red apple from the woman’s lunch bag and started to bite into it.

“Do you want to tell her or should I?” Root asked Janine.

Sameen watched as Janine’s face turned pale and her eyes filled with fear. “I meant no disrespect,” she whispered to Root.

“I know you don’t, which is why you’re still here,” Root replied truthfully because she knew herself.

“What is ..tell me what? Will someone tell me …no, I don’t even want to know, so don’t tell me,” Sameen said, shrugging her shoulders. She tried to get up, but this time, it was Root who gently held her in place by her shoulder.

“If you’re really friends, you owe it to tell her,” Root said, and her voice and manner were calm as she took another bite of the delicious fruit.

“It’s really okay,” Shaw said, “…it sounds like you two have it under wraps.”

But Root wasn’t satisfied and she gave Janine the nod to tell Sameen.

“If you think so,” Janine finally conceded.

“I told Devlin….the person …who made me feel all tingly …..was…… _you_ ,” Janine admitted to the woman who had caused the sensation.

Sameen’s head shot from the confessor to Root and back. Root’s expression confirmed what Janine had just confessed as if she already knew about it. “What?” Sameen asked, trying to remember how there was even a time that they touched.

“She can’t help it, Sameen,” Root said very understandingly. “It’s your magnetism. You give off vibes,” Root explained and suddenly Sameen felt naked. “And to be fair, you did undress her,” Root said of the first time Sameen came for an interview and needed more professional clothing.

“Well, yeah…but…..,” Sameen stammered defensively.

“I am so glad you understand, Ms. Groves,” Janine said, “….I would never…I mean, I understand Ms. Shaw isn’t available. And I really do love Devon.”

“Devlin,” Shaw corrected the woman’s slip.

Root wasn’t upset because she wasn’t in the least bit threatened. She completely understood how anyone would find Sameen sexy and get turned on by just a simple touch. And after all they had been through, especially in the last twenty-four hours, Root trusted Shaw.

“Now, I suggest, you take the rest of the day off, go home and think about what you want to do about Devlin,” Root said, getting down from the desk and putting her arm around a very appreciative Janine.

“Okay,” the woman said, thanking Root again for being so kind.

* * *

Having handled the situation with her usual aplomb, Root bounced on the balls of her feet, waved goodbye to Janine as the elevator door closed, and turned back to a very befuddled Sameen.

“Let’s have lunch,” Root suggested and Sameen followed her as they walked to the employee dining room. She kept pointing to Janine’s desk and then back to Root, all the time, not saying anything.  “I know,” Root said anyway.

“You know I’m the only sane person in this _entire_ building, right?” Shaw volunteered. “I mean the _entire_ building. Do you hire them right out of Bellevue Psychiatric?” she continued her monologue, as they walked down the hall. “Or do you….,” Sameen was asking when Root, who suddenly realized how happy she was that Sameen was all hers, turned and pulled Shaw into a kiss.

“You really do talk too much,” Root teased, knowing exactly what Sameen’s response would be. She was so sure of it; she could have mouthed the words.

“I talk ... _too_ _much_? I … _talk_ …too much?” Shaw asked, repeating the question, choosing different words to emphasize. “This, from the woman who talks nonstop. I can’t believe you said I talk too much,” Shaw rattled on insulted.

* * *

With Janine absent and Shaw on her way to have lunch, there was no one there to accept a delivery, until Reese arrived.

“Package for Ms. Shaw? Anyone?” the delivery man yelled out. The front desk refused to sign for it and sent him upstairs.

“Can I help you?” John asked, seeing that no one else was responding.

“I got a package for Ms. Shaw that needs a signature,” the young man said. “Can you sign for it?”

“Sure,” John said, being helpful.

The man smiled as he handed John the slip for his signature. “Sometimes we get a tip,” the bold courier suggested. John had no intention of giving him anything but a rude send off, until he saw the name of the company. “Here you go,” John said, handing the man a twenty.

It was going to be worth it to see the expression on Sameen’s face when John texted that he signed for her package ……from _Kinky Boots Ltd_.


	84. Feeling Fuzzy After Lunch

Root would become so absorbed in watching Sameen eat her food, that she would forget she wasn’t eating.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Sameen finally asked, as she bit into her favorite lunchtime sandwich, after arguing for ten minutes with the Parks Deli owner. It was the proverbial dance of anger that they did each and every time that fascinated Root. She would pay any amount to help Sameen get what she wanted; the way she wanted it.

“Oh, yes,” Root said, finally taking her eyes off of Sameen and taking a bit of her own salad. “You know, I know we were upset with Lionel and John,” she started and by ‘we’ she meant mostly Sameen, who talked nonstop about planning their payback, “….but when you think about it,” she said, her finger slowly going up Sameen’s arm towards the hand that was pushing in the food, “…it was kind of fun.” Root always managed to make everything sound enjoyable. She waited until Sameen’s mouth was full before sharing that thought.

“WHA?” was the expected response. Shaw chewed quickly, took a big sip of soda through the straw, and even took a minute to wipe her mouth before responding – “HELL NO!”

As usual, Root was unfazed because, if you’re brave enough to put your hand near Sameen’s mouth when she’s eating, not much else can truly scare you. “They …sort of had good intentions….,” she tried. Root didn’t mind payback, but she did prefer Sameen’s mind on other things. If she was going to plan anyone’s torture, Root preferred it be hers.

“No! Reese called Bear, for God’s sake,” Sameen said, looking at Root with a quizzical expression. “And Fusco left us in that cell!”

Unfortunately, that had been Root’s favorite part. She was walking a fine line here, and she knew it.

Shaw shook her head in disgust. “You’re going soft on me here, Root. They played us,” Shaw explained, in case Root forgot. “If we don’t do something, they’ll make this into a sport. Like…their …favorite pastime or something,” Sameen imagined in horror.

“Maybe they’ll be …too busy …with their _girlfriends_ ….,” Root suggested, projecting exactly what she wanted Shaw to be.

Root made a good point and Sameen thought it over. In fact, Root was almost certain she was giving it a lot of thought. Wrong church, wrong pew, Root. “A stripper!” Sameen said and Root was lost. “Can you imagine John’s face if a stripper showed up for him?”

Root thought about that. “No, I can’t,” she admitted because John was so stoic and proper that smiling at inappropriate jokes presented a challenge for the man, let alone scantily clad women.

“Exactly!” Shaw said, and in the time it took for Root to admit that, Shaw ordered it via her phone.

“I think we probably have a policy against that,” Root wondered out loud.

“Fine, fine! A exotic dancer,” Shaw conceded and was already laughing at how she thought John would handle a woman dancing provocatively around him.

* * *

While Sameen finished her sandwich and continued to expound on why it was necessary to induce payback, John was pacing his office. His initial thought was to tease Shaw – because it was so easy and he enjoyed watching her get flustered. He hated to admit it, but it was fun. Still, she was a valued member of his team and if John was about anything, it was supporting them. Her personal life was her business. He would never want anyone interfering with his personal life, so why would he interfere with hers? Still, a little voice inside his head; that sounded remarkably like Fusco, kept pointing out what a golden opportunity this was. John was a very disciplined man with sound principles. He took the package and walked back to Shaw’s cubicle where he would discretely put it on her desk.

His phone beeped and he answered it. Security at the front desk was alerting him to the fact that an ‘entertainer’ was there, asking for him. When John inquired what kind of entertainer, the security woman explained. “Who sent her?” he asked and the woman was told that she would not be allowed upstairs without proof that someone had requested her presence. Afraid of not getting paid, the woman revealed the information. Expecting to turn her away, the security guard was surprised when John told her to send the woman upstairs. Now, all he needed to do was find out whose birthday it was and send the woman in that direction. The general jovial atmosphere of BEAR meant there was always a birthday lunch going on somewhere in the building. John found out where one was, and had the woman directed to the party.

“Nice try, Shaw,” John thought, thinking it was clever, but not clever enough. What he was about to do – was clever. He returned to his office and sent Shaw a text; “ _Thanks for thinking of me, and it’s not even my birthday._ ”

* * *

Shaw and Root had finished dessert when the text arrived. “Oh man, I hope someone taped that,” Shaw said because she knew it would be priceless. Just as she pushed a very large piece of cake into her mouth – the second text arrived: “ _A very suspicious package arrived for you. I signed for it. It’s in my office. Maybe someone should look at it_?”

Sameen’s face twisted and she checked her phone to see if her package was delivered. Indeed, it was. It even told her that it was signed for. “Sonova…,” she started to say, but choked. It wasn’t severe, but enough that it made Root jump up and get in position behind Sameen to do the Heimlich maneuver. Sameen managed to take a drink of water and wash down the cake.

“Root?” she finally said, because the woman still had her hands positioned under her breasts; ready to press inward should she need to.

“Yes?” Root asked, but not moving her hands.

“I’m not choking,” Shaw pointed out, sitting very still in her girlfriend’s locked embrace.

“Are you sure?” Root asked because she was a former Camp Fire Girl.

“Yes, because I’m talking to you,” Shaw said bluntly.

“Oh, good,” Root said, slowly letting go and taking her seat.

“I have to go,” Shaw said, unable to tell Root why, but the murderous look in her eye was a dead giveaway.

“Dinner later?” Root asked, hoping to give Shaw other things to think about.

“Yes, if I’m not back in jail,” Shaw answered cryptically.

She was going to kill John Reese.

“Not without me, I hope,” Root remarked. It took so little for Root’s imagination to take flight and right now, she was picturing her and Shaw in orange jump suits.

Shaw knew that faraway look Root’s eyes. She shook her head and left.

Next stop, John’s office.

* * *

Shaw murmured all the back to John’s area that he was full of it; that he was pulling her leg; that he …and then she saw it. A large group of men and women in his office, in protective gear and using the devices one uses to take apart any suspicious package.  
“Holy…John! What are they doing?” Shaw asked, about to rush in and retrieve her gift. Visions of the contents being pulled out and dangled in front of the crowd were too much to bear. John reached out and held her in place with his strong arm.

“You can’t go in there, Shaw!” he said. “It’s too dangerous. Let the bomb squad handle it.”

“No, Reese, it’s not a …,” Shaw started to say, but her boss was very insistent.

“You can’t risk your life, Shaw. Whatever is in that package will be _exposed_ and _disposed_ of carefully,” John said and he still had ahold of Shaw’s shoulder.

“Reese, look, there’s nothing in there….,” Shaw said, her face actually getting flushed.

But just then, the man inside called out to John. “We got it boss. It looks like…..wait…we’re not sure,” he said and Sameen actually felt sick to her stomach.

“I’m gonna be sick,” Shaw said, and oddly enough, John had a wastepaper basket in reach for her.

“Something bothering you, Shaw?” he asked and his voice seemed very calm for a man who thought a box in his office needed to be taken apart by the bomb squad.

“It looks like a pair of….,” someone called out and Shaw threw up in the basket.

But then, the oddest thing happened. There was a loud explosion – not the damaging kind of a real bomb, but the contained explosion of a device set up by the man in charge of security to test the bomb squad’s abilities.

That’s right – it was Test the Bomb Squad Day and John had the device already planted in his office.

Shaw was never so happy to hear an explosion in all her life. “It…blew…up?” she asked thrilled, but confused.

“What did you expect, Shaw?” John asked, handing her a tissue. “Okay, people. Let’s try this again and next time, deactivate before you detonate,” he instructed.

Shaw let out a long sigh of relief as she slid down the wall.

“Oh, hey, Shaw,” John said to her before going back to his office. “This came for you,” he said, tapping the top of the box that was securely hidden on her desk.

“I’m… so….. gonna kill you, Reese,” Shaw said, throwing up one more time from all the excitement.

* * *

The real dilemma for Sameen happened later that day at the Penthouse; when she wanted nothing more than to complain to Root about John and list all of the reasons she had come up with to fire him. A few of her sentences began with ...”He….,” and …..“Then, he….,” but Shaw couldn’t finish them.

Root figured Sameen would tell her in good time what was really bothering her. “What’s in the box?” Root naturally asked, noticing it since Shaw brought it in with her.

“Oh,” Sameen said, switching gears and turning back to something more pleasant. “You know when you see something, and it just screams the person’s name?”  
Root wanted to answer – “ _Yes, like an entire eatery called Parks Deli_?” but instead, she simply said, _yes_.

“Well, this …is because….,” Shaw said, her throat getting dry as she cleared it, “…because you accept me, “ she said, now locking eyes with Root, “…for who I am,” she continued softly. “and…I …want to do the same.”

It didn’t matter what was in the box now. The fact that Sameen could speak so openly from her heart is what truly touched Root. Her heart burst with the wonderful feeling that she only had when she was with Sameen. “Oh, Sameen,” Root said, smiling with her eyes that filled with tears. Her lips quivered as she wanted to smile and cry at the same moment. Then, she opened the box and looked in. She looked up at Sameen, whose head tilted back and forth. “Really?” Root said, never expecting this.

“Yeah, if…you want,” Shaw said, because she had decided not to protest.  
Root leapt across the short distance to Sameen, kissing her and slowly pushing her down on the couch. “You are the _best_ girlfriend,” Root said in between kisses of gratitude.

“I know,” Shaw affirmed because of what she went through to get this gift. Not only did it take guts for her to do this, she actually lost her lunch over it.

“You first,” Root practically squealed as she placed the fuzzy handcuffs over Shaw’s wrists.

“You know I can get out of these, right?” Sameen said, because a part of her brain couldn’t believe she was encouraging Root’s games.

“You’re not going to want to,” Root cooed in her ear. “I promise you that.”

“Oh!” Shaw exclaimed, as Root’s excitement over Shaw’s willing participation, took them to new heights.


	85. Mixing Like Oil and Water

Just when Shaw didn’t think Root could approach lovemaking with any more reckless abandon, something like the fuzzy gift seemed to raise it up a notch. Sameen was amazed that her military trained swift movements were no match for Root on fire. She had been in barroom brawls that tossed her around less.

If Root stopped to think about it, which she didn’t, she, too, might have been curious about her explosive response. She was controlling, yet gentle; dominating, yet….no, just dominating. She wanted to experience and consume Sameen all in one breath. It was as if Sameen allowing her to indulge in this kind of foreplay, set her on fire. She simply could not get her fill of her Firecracker.

Sameen’s analogy was right on – together they were as hot as a four alarm fire in an oil refinery. In July.

When Sameen’s calls for mercy subsided, Root threw herself back on the cool satin sheets, exhausted and happier than she had ever been. She had done things to Sameen she never even dreamed of doing with someone – and that was saying something.

Sameen was lying there, exhausted and covered in perspiration; never having been in a bed as long as she was, and setting a new personal record on peaking – with another person.

For two people who had expertly shut down their feelings, the flood gates were opened. It was almost as if they were the key and lock for each other – a perfect fit.

Perhaps because Sameen did realize her own strength, she was careful when tossing Root around. Root, on the other hand, may have taken Sameen’s strength for granted – thinking she couldn’t do much harm to the compact Persian. Shaw’s bruises would prove otherwise. But she was going to wear them proudly.

How good was Root? Well, she had made Shaw forget about paying back Fusco and Reese for hours.

That good.

* * *

“You know what he needs?” Sameen mused over breakfast the next morning as she and Root sat in the kitchen. Even since Sameen started to be there in the a.m., Isabelle’s job became far more interesting. She would now spend hours thinking of new meals that Sameen would enjoy. Root was never one for variety, but Shaw had an endless palate for all things meat.

“Tonight is lamb,” Isabelle announced and Root swore she had never seen the woman so giddy.

“I’ll be here,” Shaw promised and now all three women were happy.

“What does he need?” Root asked, getting back to Sameen’s question.

Sameen shoved half a pancake in her mouth before answering; “A guard dog.”

Root gave Isabelle a sideways glance and the woman immediately understood that from now on, all pancakes should be dissected into smaller pieces. She, too, worried Sameen would choke herself one day.  
The only one who reacted verbally was Bear – whose howl made it perfectly clear – anyone, but that mangy mutt who scared him the other day.

“A what?” Root asked, sliding her finger across the syrup laden lip. Had they been alone, she might have been tempted ….oh, look! She did it anyway. Root leaned over and kissed the sweetened lip, reconsidering her eye glance order. There were definitely benefits to Sameen’s poor eating manners.

Root smiled when there was, surprisingly, no eye roll and Sameen seemed a little distracted when trying to answer Root’s inquiry. “A…,” Sameen started, but the fire on her lip was short circuiting any cognitive connections temporarily. Bear was anxious to hear what the answer was and barked loudly – breaking Sameen’s reverie.

“Bear,” Root cautioned, but he shook his head. They had enough alone time last night, and this morning in bed, and the shower – now was his time.

“A guard dog. He doesn’t know he’s a _d-o-g,_ so he might be okay with it,” Sameen surmised.

Root made that look she made when she thought something Sameen said was adorable and cute – but terribly wrong. Her eyes got big and she smiled, tilting her head to one side. “What?” Sameen asked, annoyed at the dismissive look.  
Root looked over at the attentive canine, who didn’t really care for Shaw’s idea.

“Bear, heb je een h-o-n-d?” Root asked slowly in his native tongue. Bear ran quickly over to a bin of toys and pulled out the stuffed canine animal.

”He ....knows.....how....to....spell?” Shaw asked, incredulously.

“Bear, k-e-t-c-h-u-p,” Root said, even though she didn’t really have time for this. The dog ran over to the refrigerator, pulled open the door with the cord that was tied to the handle and retrieved the correct item.

“He can be very helpful,” Isabelle added and petted the dog.

“So, I guess I should stop spelling words around him?” Shaw asked, shaking her head.

“He would _tolerate_ anything from you,” Root said, because how could anyone refuse Sameen?

* * *

Root started to get ready for work and was at the elevator when Sameen ran after her, complaining that she was under the impression that Root was suggesting the dog was putting up with her. “Are you ..telling me…he’s ….making allowances for me?”

Sameen’s head shot to look at the dog because she was almost certain he was going to give Root a raised eyebrow look.

“He loves you,” Root answered by not answering.

“Yeah, well don’t go assuming the feeling is mutual,” Sameen shot back, unsure of what was going on, but certain something was. She needed to focus on something she was sure of. “Hey, I was thinking, maybe we could get Harold to help us pay Fusco and Reese back.”

“You have a one track mind,” Root suggested.

“Says the woman who asked me to wear those cuffs to breakfast!” Sameen retorted. She had a point.

Just the thought of it made Root all animated as she closed in on Shaw in the elevator. “You were…amazing,” she said, kissing her girlfriend’s bottom lip seductively. Shaw went to open her mouth and express that flattery would get Root nowhere, but her osculating abilities were par excellence. Root exited the elevator, Bear on her heals, but Sameen was still licking her lip, standing motionless inside.

Bear went back to the door and delivered his message. " _Bark! Bark! Bark! Bark!_ "  And then he left. It jolted Sameen out of her dreamy state, annoyed at how easily sidetracked she was by the kiss.

“Did he just spell _come_ to me?” she asked in horror. “Did he? Because if he thinks he can start spelling commands to me, I’m going to get a French Poodle who will scare the hell out of him,” she ranted. “He was, wasn’t he,” Sameen pressed on. “Look at how smug he’s walking. Oh my God, you can see it!”

Root turned and threaded her arm through Sameen’s as they walked. She couldn’t help but find her tough marine girlfriend getting insulted so easily – and by a ... d-o-g … so endearing.

“It’s not because of that,” Root assured Sameen. “I think it’s the meeting this morning with Dr. Yeager.”

“Is he a vet?” Sameen asked, and swore the dog was practically prancing the way the dressage horses do.

“No, he’s from Yale,” Root said matter-of-factly.

It was enough to make Sameen stop in her tracks and pull on Root’s arm. “He’s …going….to…college?”

It never ceased to amaze Sameen that Root could find some of her questions outlandish after a morning of proving the dog could spell. “No, he’s from the Yale Canine Cognition Center. I sent him some reports on Bear and he said he had to see it, to believe it,” Root relayed with a shrug of the shoulders.

“So, the hard part of this meeting will be when Bear sees the word ‘ _canine_ ’ on the man’s business card and can’t figure out how it applies to him?” Shaw asked, cracking herself up. Bear just stared at Root as if asking – “ _How do you do it_?”

“Oh, Silly,” Root said, going back to retrieve Sameen and walked her a little faster to work.

“Well, he certainly has all of you trained, so Dr. Yeager might want to see that,” Shaw continued her monologue.

* * *

The fact that Root would be busy most of the morning with Dr. Yeager – and Bear – meant Sameen was free to follow her own pursuits. And right now, she wanted to pursue her payback for Reese and Fusco. Fusco was easy – Since she made it her lifetime goal of torturing him, she decided she just had to keep being his friend. Reese, who was even more deserving, was going to take some extra special planning. And extra special planning required a healthy breakfast. And second breakfast apparently, because that’s where Sameen was headed. Once seated with her meal, she listed on a napkin things that she thought would annoy him. She drew a box and then tried to literally think outside it as she wrote down words that would irritate her boss. Her last attempt that resulted in him being the baseball coach only seemed to work in his favor. The team won the Championship and Joss seemed even more enamored with the tall, light and monosyllabic man. Since Sameen could identify with John on some level, she tried to imagine what would annoy her.

The answer was … losing.

All she had to do was find something to compete with him in, and win. And rub it in his face. Forever. She needed information and so she went to her friendly company resource.

Janine was in a far better mood than the previous day. She greeted Sameen warmly; thanked her for her help the day before and explained what happened. Apparently, someone had posted pictures on Instagram of her boyfriend, Devlin, with an exotic dancer. Someone had sent him one as a birthday gag, which was very strange, Janine admitted, because it wasn’t even his birthday. Anyway, they each had something they were not happy with and they went out to dinner and talked everything over.  
FShaw laughed dryly to think her gift to John was detoured to Devlin.

“I still haven’t mentioned it’s you,” Janine whispered, hoping Sameen would take that as a sign of her devoted friendship.

“O….kay,” Sameen said, certain the man posed no threat whatsoever. “I need …information.”

“Anything,” Janine said, ready and waiting to assist.

Shaw expressed her desire to compete with John on something – anything – because she was certain she could beat the man – at anything.

“We have the physical challenge,” Janine offered, looking up information about company team building events.

“Please,” Sameen refused, “ …. I’d have to give him a head start now.”

Every suggestion the HR employee came up with was rejected until Janine mentioned the last thing she could think of – the BEAR Company Scavenger Hunt for Charity. “But the deadline is today,” Janine explained.

“Good, do it!” Shaw said, convinced she could find anything faster than Captain Slow N. Steady. She walked away quite pleased that she would finally get even with Reese. A company competition where everyone would see that she beat John, fair and square.

“Oh, dear,” Janine said after signing them up as the last two participants. “I think I should have mentioned that,” the woman said, worried Shaw would be upset with her.

BEAR was all about teamwork – and so the company competition was to be carried out by teams. The last two entries were automatically paired.

Team _Reese-Shaw_ was now the last team to be entered.


	86. Even When Shaw’s Bitter, She’s Sweet

John Reese was a man in great shape, but he was facing the inevitable changes that different decades bring. Right now, age was telling Reese his energies were better spent with Joss Carter than the company treasure hunt. So, he was very happy to find out that he would have been the odd man out without a partner. When he got an email from Janine with the ‘ _good news’_ – he was surprised that Shaw had signed them up. Still, John never backed away from an opportunity to get to know his team better. Janine informed him she was having their team t-shirt made up, too.

Sameen had no idea that they had just become partners. She was busy planning how she would win. “I’d match my marine training against his lame ass army training any day,” the former marine said to herself as she walked up to Root’s office. All her bravado was cut short when she noticed the set up in the conference room, which looked a lot like an obstacle course. Bear was running through it which amazed Sameen because the dog had his own personal jogger. But what really concerned Sameen was the expression on Root’s face. She stood there with her hand to her chin, her lips pursed and eyebrows v-shaped. Root was worried.  
Sameen knocked on the door and the man with the clipboard turned sharply to see who would dare interrupt his research. Root let out a sigh of relief and went to her immediately. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here,” Root said and pulled Sameen by the arm.

“What is going on in here?” Shaw asked.

“Oh, Sweetie, I don’t know. Dr. Yeager wanted to test Bear, because of all the things I shared with him. He persuaded me that if they could find out what makes Bear so smart, perhaps they could train other dogs. But Bear doesn’t look happy,” Root fretted.

Shaw peeked around the taller woman and listened for a second. She didn’t care for the professor’s tone of voice. Then, she looked over at Bear who looked very unhappy with electrodes connected to his head sending wireless signals to the man’s laptop.

“Why did you agree to this?” Shaw asked, looking back at Root before she acted on what her gut was telling her to do.

“Dr. Yeager told me if he could figure out what made Bear so special, perhaps they could duplicate it in training modules for other dogs,” Root said and Shaw could tell the CEO’s heart was in the right place, but right now it was aching.

Shaw nodded her head, her eyes darting from Bear to Root to the apparatus set up. She analyzed the situation, as was her style, and then acted – as was her forte.

“Get your Ivy League hands off of Bear,” Shaw said, walking straight to the man.

“Excuse me! We are conducting a very important experiment here,” he said indignantly. “Who are you?”

“Normally, I’d be the girl kicking your sorry ass, but today I’m in a good mood, so I’m letting you off with a warning,” Shaw said smiling in a very threatening way.

“Ms. Groves?” he said, not wanting to disrupt his work. “We agreed….”

“No, you pulled on her heartstrings with that nonsense about being able to duplicate Bear. Let me save you a whole lot of trouble,” Sameen said, putting her arm around the man’s shoulders so he could feel just how solid she was. “I’ve been around him for a few weeks now and there is no other ….,” and she stopped because spelling was out of the question. So, she _signed_ the word _dog_ , moving her fingers to form the letters. “….like him. So, give up.”

There was loud barking that startled to professor, but it only made Shaw turn and look at Root. “He… _signs_?” she asked exasperated. Root smiled, but then she had been smiling since Sameen took charge of the situation, and shrugged her shoulders. Shaw just shook her head, rolled her eyes, and went back to the issue at hand.

“If you want to see really well trained animals that you might be able to tap into and replicate their behavior,” Sameen said, walking over to Bear and taking off the head piece that was strapped to his head, “…go outside and watch a few of those people when Bear walks by.”

Bear was so grateful to be free of the headpiece that he started to express his appreciation in long, wet, slobbering kisses to whatever part of Shaw’s face he could get at. “Stop! Bear! Make him stop! I swear …if you don’t…stop…..” Sameen yelled, but Bear saw right through her.

“Ms. Groves, I think you’re making a mistake,” the professor argued, but Root waved her hand at him.

“I was wrong, Doctor Yeager. You won’t find anything by putting electrodes on Bear’s head,” she said and laughed as the dog knocked the petite woman over and kept it up.

“This is very disappointing,” the man stammered as he collected his things.

Shaw flipped over on her stomach, trying to maneuver away from the overgrown pet who wasn’t quite done showing his gratitude. He grabbed Shaw by the ankle, one of his favorite moves and kept her in place.

“Root! Could you sign him or tell him in Dutch or spell it out that I carry a gun and am a very good shot,” Shaw yelled as the professor slammed his laptop down and bid Root goodbye. The rumbling of furniture being toppled over as Shaw tried to get up was music to Root’s ears. Sameen’s head popped up above the table, long enough for her to threaten – “I’m going to kill him,” but she disappeared when Bear found her belt and pulled her back down.

“He’s trying to say thank you,” Root said, smiling at how well they played together.

“I am covered …in …..dog saliva, Root!” Shaw yelled, but buried her head in her arms for fear the dog would actually get her mouth.

“Bear?” Root said in what was supposed to be a demonstrative tone, but the dog knew she was sitting back now and enjoying it.

“I swear I’m going to call Zoe Morgan and get that little dog back here,” Shaw issued the final ultimatum, but Bear really didn’t like being teased about being afraid of the little white haired dog. So he gave Shaw _his_ final waning.

And then… he ran like hell.

Root rushed over when Sameen let out a very non- characteristic girly yell. “OOOOUUUUCH! Sonova bitch!” Well, the last part was very characteristic, but Root ran over anyway.

“What?” Root asked, looking down.

“He bit me!” Sameen yelled, slowly getting up and putting her hand on the afflicted area.

“Back…there? Are you sure?” Root asked, surprised.

“Yes, back here. I know when I’ve been bit in the ass, Root,” Shaw barked.

“He …probably got …over excited,” Root suggested. “I know I would, if I were licking…”

“ROOT!” Shaw said, amazed that there seemed to be no filter.

“Let me see,” Root said, and tugged as Sameen’s belt. “Maybe we should put something on it,” and Root meant to keep – ‘like my mouth’ – to herself, but it came out of her mouth nonetheless.

“Root!” Sameen snarled.

“You’re right. The skin could be broken. We should at least put a disinfectant on it,” Root said, staring at the affected area and biting her lower lip.

“You know I was a doctor, right?” the former doctor inquired.

“Well, at least let me get you something to put on it,” Root said, calling Jill to get a first aid kit. “And I will give Bear a consequence for this,”

“Like what? No PBS television for a week? You’ll cancel his Smithsonian subscription? Not renew his Metropolitan Opera seasonal tickets?” Shaw ranted sarcastically.

“Oh,” Root said, thinking those were far more punitive than what she had in mind. “He …really does ....enjoy the opera,” she said, hoping Sameen wouldn’t want her to go that far.

Shaw became motionless and stared; foolishly waiting for Root to say she was only kidding and that the dog did not have season tickets to the Met.

Root could think of only one way to distract Sameen right now. But, she suggested lunch instead.

* * *

Bear knew exactly where to run if he needed additional muscle. He went right to John.

“What is it, boy? You look scared,” John noted, petting the dog’s head and looking around to see what was making him cower.

“I can’t believe she picked you. No offense,” Martine offered, walking into John’s office with the ready-made t shirts. “Hello, Bear,” the woman said, getting down on her knees after giving John the scavenger hunt t-shirts and petting the company mascot.

“What’s up with him?” she asked, because his anxiety level was noticeable.

“Something scared him,” John said, wondering what it was.

“He looks… _terrified_ ,” Martine deduced, as the dog kept looking at the door.

“Now what could….?” John pondered as did Martine.

“ _Shaw_ ,” they both said at the same time. “But why?” they asked each other.

“Sameen would never do anything to hurt him,” Martine declared.

“Bear,” John said, wondering if it was retribution that the dog feared. “Did you do something?”

The guilty party ran under John’s desk and refused to come out.

“You know she’s all bark and no bite, right?” John assured the anxious canine.

“There are some people here who would give their right arm for that woman to bite them and look at him,” Martine laughed. The woman, who never uttered anything before it was carefully calculated, couldn’t believe she had just let that thought flow off her lips. She coughed loudly, as if scooping up the words to put them back. “You know,” she tried, “Because Shaw’s a great coworker and all.”

“Yeah,” John said, wondering if there was anyone not susceptible to what apparently was Shaw’s charisma.

* * *

Upstairs, Root was tearing her thoughts away from how to tend to Shaw’s wound long enough to come up with her next brilliant idea. “Do you trust me?” she asked Sameen, interrupting her rant about how she thought somewhere back in time, Reese and Bear shared a common ancestor because they were both annoying her.

“Do you trust me?” Root repeated and although Sameen heard her the first time, it was one of her ten questions you never answer. Or was it twenty?

“Root, I’m not taking my clothes off and exposing my…,” Shaw deflected what she thought Root was suggesting.

“No, silly, I’ll take care of that later. But I have an idea that might help these situations that have you upset,” Root said, putting together her plan.

“Really?” Shaw said, excitedly. “You’re going to send Bear and Reese on vacation together?”

“Even better,” Root said, having decided that the solution lie with Sameen.

“You’re sending Fusco with them!” Shaw fantasized, thinking that was the only thing better.

“I’ll get everything set up. You come back here at three,” Root said, outlining the steps in her head.

“I can’t wait to see the look on John’s face,” Sameen said, feeling a whole lot better about the boys. Payback was just around the corner, she thought.

What actually was around the corner was Bear – who, after a long talk with John about facing your fears – marched back to confront his. As Sameen walked confidently out of Root’s office, convinced the woman was going to take care of the males that upset her, Bear stood his ground. But his fears seemed unfounded as Sameen reached down and petted his head in the friendliest of manners. All must have been forgiven, he thought. But he decided he better get Root to confirm that.

_Now, everyone knows that when you’re training a ….d-o-g …or anyone for that matter, mixed signals are the downfall of the desired behavior. So, when Root greeted Bear that afternoon, her tone sounded like she was scolding him, but she was hugging him and ruffling his hair and explaining that – although he should use his words and not his teeth – it did present her with the perfect opportunity to tend Sameen’s wound and for that, she couldn’t thank him enough. That was a very mixed message – and as usual, Bear was left to his own devices to try and figure it out. Apparently, Shaw wasn’t as angry as he thought about being bit, and Root was, in fact, very happy._

Seemed like a win-win situation to the four legged genius.

* * *

Sameen went back to her cubicle, certain that her happiness hinged on the arrival of three o’clock. Then Root would reveal her plan that, no doubt, would be the perfect payback to Reese – if not both Reese and Bear. She sat there with her feet up on her desk, feeling what came as close to serene as possible for the tightly wound woman.

“Reese, are you sure?” Sameen heard Martine ask outside her cubicle. She pushed the sound away and went back to her relaxed position. “I seriously doubt Shaw’s going to like this,” Martine added.

“It was her idea,” Sameen heard John answer and now her curiosity was piqued.

“Then it must be brilliant,” Sameen called out in her usual self-assured tone.

Martine and John walked around to see their coworker. “I can’t believe you picked me,” John admitted. “After …the park…and jail……, mostly jail.”

"What is he talking about?" Sameen asked the other woman.  Martine held the shirt up with their last names hyphenated across the shirt.  “What is that?” Sameen demanded to know as she jumped up from her comfortable position.

“We all got them,” Martine said, hoping it was some consolation to her favorite coworker.

“What…Reese? What the hell is this?” Shaw asked again.

“You and Reese are _partners_ …in the BEAR Scavenger Hunt,” Martine explained, wondering why she had to since Shaw signed them up. “I wish I had known you were doing it …,” she admitted.

“No, I’m not doing it … _WITH_ …Reese,” Shaw explained, trying to rub the names off the t-shirts as if they were written in pencil. “Not _with_ you, Reese; _against_ you,” Shaw explained – banging her two fists against each other.

“Well, Shaw,” John said in his usual soft tone, “HR says you signed us up as the last two people. So, you get the t-shirt. And I’ll see you out in the park…Partner.”

“Do you want to switch? I have Janine,” Martine said to John who explained he didn’t even want to do it, but since someone on his own staff asked him, he was feeling obligated to go. It didn’t bother John in the least that Sameen had her head down on her desk now, murmuring – ‘ _Why me?’_ over and over. “Let’s give her a minute,” John suggested because he didn’t like to see Sameen so stressed out.

* * *

Root was upstairs putting the finishing touches on what she thought would be the perfect way for Sameen to learn how to de-stress. Okay, the second way. She had Jill purchase the right clothes in the right sizes. And two mats. She had already instructed her instructor to come to her office where he could conduct a private session for her and Sameen.

Nothing helped Root let go of tension like …yoga.

Then she realized she was doing it again. She was trying to affix her cures to Shaw’s ailments. Sameen wasn’t the only one learning. “Think!” she said to herself as she paced back and forth with moments to spare. A snap of her fingers meant she got it and she called Jill and explained there was a change of plans.

“Protective ear muffs……… and bullets?” Jill asked, to be sure.

“Yes, lots of bullets,” Root explained, having figured out what Shaw needed. “Boxes of bullets.”


	87. Scrambled Thoughts

It seemed that Sameen’s attempts to pay the guys back kept backfiring. And now that she had Root involved, she worried that backfire would become an explosion. There was something missing from this equation, and she wanted to figure it out. Shaw decided she needed someone who might be unbiased and who would give her a straight answer. So, she followed Iris into the bathroom.

The woman had just decided it was safe enough to return to the company bathrooms when Shaw burst through the door and accosted her.

“Doc?” Sameen called out and didn’t hear Iris groan into her hands and whisper - ‘ _Should have gone to Starbucks_.’ “I need your opinion on something,” Sameen shouted down to her stall. “Yeah, let’s go …,” she said, to the two women who rushed through hand washing so they could vacate.

“Sameen?” Iris said, coming out of the cubicle because she was afraid Shaw would pop her head over the stall wall if she didn’t.

“Hey, Doc, I have a question,” Sameen said as Iris went to the sink.

“Could we meet in my office?” Iris attempted to say, because she wanted to point out how these impromptu visits were not good for her digestive system.

“I don’t want to intrude,” said the woman who obviously didn’t know the meaning of the word. “And this won’t take long,” she promised and attempted to sit on the sink, but jumped off in discomfort.

“Are you okay?” Iris asked, sure she had no choice but to stay.

“Bear bit me,” Sameen said calmly.

“He …bit …you?” Iris asked of the docile animal, and Sameen assured her she was. “You ..didn’t…,” the therapist started to ask and then realized how silly her question was.

“I didn’t bite him, if that’s what you wanted to ask,” Sameen guessed correctly.

“Oh, good,” Iris smiled, unsure of whom she was happier for – Shaw for not stooping to the dog’s level or Bear because she thought Sameen’s bite could match her bark if provoked.

“Anyway, not the point,” Sameen said, trying to get the therapist to focus. “What do you think about payback?” Someone opened the door and Shaw yelled – “We’re working here!” and they closed it immediately.

“Payback, as in revenge?” Iris asked just to be clear.

“Payback as in someone does something to you and it really pisses you off and you want to teach them never to do that again because ….it really pissed you off!” Sameen elaborated as she paced back and forth now.

Iris thought back to her session with Sameen as she had outlined the events of her day. It didn’t take too long before Iris connected the dots to her client’s aggravated state and the men responsible for what happened. “Oh, got it,” Iris said, now leaning back against the sink.

“Every time I try to repay …one…of them, it backfires. The other one I just have to stay friends with. You know, it’s life a lifelong payback with him,” Shaw said without giving names.

“Must be exhausting,” Iris suggested.

“It wouldn’t be if it worked out,” Shaw countered. “But now Root’s involved….”

“Root?” Iris asked to get Sameen to explain that a bit more.

“Yes, Root. I …may…have…encouraged her to help me exact revenge on those two nerds and now …..You know Root’s a freaking genius, right?” Shaw segued and stopped walking.

“Yes, I do,” Iris affirmed.

“Well, add _that_ to her deepest desire to ….uhm…she likes to…,” Shaw stammered, looking up at the ceiling trying to find the words to explain that Root would do anything for her.

“Are you concerned that Root might help settle the scores for you?” Iris asked.

“Yes!” Shaw said, grateful the woman could fill in the blanks so well. “Look, I know you’re a shrink and you’re supposed to give really ambiguous answers and ask equally annoying questions that push regular people over the edge,” she shared from her heart, “…but this once, could you just switch gears and give me a straight answer.”

Iris thought Sameen’s request over. “Okay, Sameen,” she said and turned to her. “I think Root would do anything in the world for you, including settling scores. I think the score you want settled – was actually done with the best of intentions for you and Root. I don’t think there was any malice intended and given what you told me about you two waving guns around, I think these … _other people_ …took what they felt was - appropriate action. So, maybe you want to reconsider your revenge plan and tell Root all is forgiven,” the woman suggested. _Iris would not share how she had been out on a date with Lionel and when a short woman passed his car quickly, he let out a yelp thinking it was Shaw coming to pay him back. No, that would be their little secret._

Shaw stood there staring at Iris as if trying to translate those words. What she was proposing was a foreign concept to Sameen and she was waiting for the good doctor to yell – _JUST KIDDING!_ – but, of course, she didn’t. Silence filled the room until Sameen realized – “Oh, God, wait - you’re serious. You want me to …for….”

“….give, yes,” Iris completed the thought when seconds had passed and Sameen couldn’t say the whole word. Iris waited while that sunk in a little more. “Sameen, these are two people who are your friends and they both care about you and Root. Especially, Lionel.” _She would not tell Shaw she was basing this on the fact that sometimes, all Lionel talked about was Shaw._

Shaw was having a hard time getting her head around this concept, but it was Iris and she did trust her. “But….,” she countered just in case the woman was wrong, “…suppose this encourages them?”

“To care about you more? I don’t think that’s possible,” Iris replied.

What Iris was proposing made sense on one level, but she was asking Sameen to forgo the settling of scores …and that was really hard. Suddenly, Sameen felt uneasy that she had been so focused on repaying the debt. “Fine,” she conceded, not happy, but compliant. “We can …all be grownups about this,” Shaw elaborated. “They …did mean well …and …you won't find this hard to believe, but Root really enjoyed it.”

Iris smiled at how her favorite client’s breakthrough’s often occurred in the oddest of places. “I’m glad,” she said, hoping her boyfriend could relax now that he wouldn’t think Shaw was waiting around every corner.

* * *

Shaw left her therapist’s ‘other’ office and headed upstairs at three o’clock. She was prepared to tell Root that she had a change of heart, and that they should just let this whole thing go. She resigned herself to being Reese’s partner on the scavenger hunt, too. When she entered Root’s office, the very first thing she noticed was Bear decked out in a hunting vest …with what looked like bullets in the slots. Not surprisingly, was the fact that Root was wearing a very similar vest.

“Root?” Sameen asked as she walked in slowly because there was no way she was going to let her give this dog a gun. “You can’t arm him, I don’t care how he begs,” Shaw said, moving towards them the way the bomb squad approached the package.

“Look!” Root said all excited as she handed Sameen her vest.

“What …is…this?” Shaw said, taking it, but holding out from her like she had never seen one before.

“I wanted pink, but they only had camouflage left,” Root explained, making a pouty face.

“Root, you can’t let him walk around with live ammo,” Shaw said, but Root pulled her in closer to whisper. “Pretend ones, you know, just for show, but he doesn’t know that,” she said in a tiny whisper.

“It amazes me that you can’t spell or sign around him, but for some reason you think you can whisper. You know, in spite of what everyone else says, those appendages on his head means he has better hearing than we do,” Shaw pointed out.

“My girlfriend is so smart,” Root said, kissing Sameen’s lips before she had time to shake her head and roll her eyes.

“Anyway, what is all of this?” Shaw asked.

“Well, you said that we needed to do something to take care of Reese and Fusco, and present company, but I knew you didn’t mean him,” Root said, nodding over towards Bear – who picked up on it and howled.

“Root, you can’t actually shoot people just because they upset me, but I appreciate the gesture. Really, I do. But, I spoke with Doc and she thinks they had good intentions and that maybe I…we….should …..,” and her mind went blank. “Should……..” she tried to jump her cognitive connections.

“Forgive them?” Root guessed correctly.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, the word still distasteful in her mouth.

“Good!” Root said as if she had already been on board the _SS Iris Feelgood Ship._

“So, no need to train Bear to be a sniper now,” Shaw lamented, putting the vest down.

“What?” Root asked, wondering where Shaw got these crazy ideas from.

“The two of you are in camouflage vests with live ammo, and you’re looking at me like you have no idea where I came up with that conclusion,” Shaw huffed because she was certain she was the sane one, and the rest of them were crazy.

Root looked around as if she hadn’t just bought the paraphernalia. “This is for you!” she said gleefully. Then she grabbed the vest Shaw had laid down on the table and took her by the arm.

“Where are we doing?” Shaw asked feeling like she was cast in a movie called - _The Von Trapp Family Shoots Trap._ Root wanted her to be surprised, so she wouldn’t tell her until they reached the floor where the shooting range was. “Oh, you want me to teach you….,” Shaw said, thinking she figured out what the fashion statement was all about.

“No, I want you to shoot….a lot….look,” Root said, showing Shaw that the place was quiet and that there were boxes of ammo for her to use.

“Really?” Shaw said, looking down at her guns that had been procured from the Penthouse and laid out for her to use. “These are my guns,” she said, turning to look at the woman who had the override code to her private room.

“Now, I know you’re very fussy about who touches them, so I didn’t give the code to Isabelle. Well, I tried but she wouldn’t have anything to do with it,” Root said as she thought out what she had to do.  
So……?” Sameen prompted her.

“So, I asked Detective Fusco to get them,” Root said, and gave Shaw such a big smile that she found it hard to get annoyed at her.

Shaw couldn’t help but smile and shake her head. “Do you ever find any obstacle you can’t overcome?” Shaw teased.

“Not when it comes to you,” Root said, smiling devilishly and moving over to kiss Shaw. Sameen hated to admit it, but Root’s kisses were like electricity shooting through her. They were delicious and distracting all at the same time.

“Wow,” was all Sameen could say when Root released her lips. “Maybe…you know…after we shoot, we could…,” Sameen said in a breathy tone because Root had that effect on her, “…check that…bite.”

Sameen couldn’t believe she was feeling bold enough to suggest that, but swore it was Root’s influence. She, of course, expected Root to clasp her hands together and shout how she couldn’t wait. Instead, Root pursed her lips and looked past Sameen.

“Yeah, yeah, so you got bit. You can show us later, Shaw,” Lionel said, hanging up his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

“Root?” Shaw said, frozen with utter embarrassment.

“I thought I would invite the boys so everyone could kiss and make up,” Root said, the purveyor of peace on earth, goodwill to all. “And besides, this way you can beat them,” Root winked, knowing Shaw was the better shot.

“Boys?” Shaw said and waited for it.

“I heard you were decent, Shaw,” Reese said, not removing his jacket, nor rolling up his sleeves. “For a marine.”

“We’ll make up, but I’m not kissing her,” Fusco answered.

“You know what, Fusco? You can kiss my ass,” Shaw said, ready to show them both up.

Root walked a fine line between giving Shaw what she wanted ….and adding in some of what she needed.

Struggling now with loading her gun fast so she could get started, she asked Root – “I thought you wanted me to do this to lessen the stress?”

“Oh, well I wanted you to have a way to get back at the boys which will make you feel better,” Root explained.

“And the stress?” Shaw asked because Root kept telling her on the way here that she wanted her to work on it.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m going to personally help you with that later,” Root winked and then gently smacked Sameen on her derriere.

“OUCH!” Shaw yelled, because Root mistakenly hit her bite.

“Oh, yes, we’re definitely going to have to tend to that wound later,” Root whispered, making a pouty face that she was sorry. “Now, go get ‘em, Sameen.”


	88. The Sweet Taste of Victory

Root could have easily joined the trio in shredding paper targets with various firearms, but she much rather stand near Sameen and watch her shoot. The force and steadiness of the woman’s firing was a complete turn on for her. There wasn’t a muscle in those arms that weren’t scanned by the careful gaze of Root as she reloaded the magazines for Shaw. Root lost control at one point and ran her hand up Sameen’s forearm muscles when she was getting ready to shoot.

“Root? What are you doing?” Sameen asked, her tone letting Root know you don’t touch your girlfriend in the middle of shooting.

Root couldn’t help it. Part of Shaw’s magnetism was the intensity with which she did things. Most things. Root thought touching Sameen was more acceptable than what she wanted to do to her. Like, slamming her up against the wall gently and letting her hands roam through those long locks and run down her thighs.

“ROOT?” the day dreamer heard and brought her back. “I can’t shoot if your hand is in my hair,” Shaw pointed out, wondering what happened to Root that she looked so unfocused.

“Oh, sure, Sweetie,” Root said unabashed, removing her hand that unconsciously was carrying out her daydream.

Forgetting that they weren’t alone, Fusco called out to Root – “It’s okay, distract her all you want. I’m catching up to her.”

Shaw gave Root a cold stare and she tried to convey her dissatisfaction at being distracted. Still, now that she thought about it, Root’s fingers pushing through her hair did feel good. “Maybe, I should tie it back…anyway,” Shaw said, taking a second to do so.

The long strands that never seemed to comply with the rest of her head, framed her face as she resumed her stance. “It will be a cold day in hell before you or G.l. Joe down there beat me,” Shaw retorted.

When all was said and done, and the smoke literally settled, the targets were retracted and scores were counted. Well, Root counted the scores and Shaw began exercising her bragging rights because she had won and she knew it.

“Geez, you hardly weigh more than some of those weapons, Shaw,” Fusco said as he looked down at the perfectly perforated center.

“Got to hand it to you, Shaw, you’re good,” Reese conceded. “I’m almost sorry there won’t be any shooting on our Scavenger Hunt.”

“What?” Fusco said the same time as Root.

“Shaw signed us up…as a team,” Reese answered immediately. “We have t-shirts.”

“Really?” Root and Fusco echoed.

“It’s not….I didn’t think…..I was trying,” Shaw attempted to explain to Root.

“Look who’s drinking the Kool Aid now,” Lionel pestered his friend who just beat him.

“Everyone else wanted Shaw as their partner,” Reese shared and this caught Root’s attention.

“Really?” Root asked and it was less an inquiry and more a ‘like who’ sort of question.

“He’s just…,” Shaw dismissed Reese because they were getting off topic which, at the moment, was how good her shots were.

“Oh, yes, Janine and Martine seemed very disappointed that Shaw picked me,” John said. It had to be blatant for him to notice it.

“Look at you, Miss Congeniality,” Fusco teased. “Playing nice in the sandbox and making friends.”

“Okay, look!” Shaw yelled which only fueled Reese’s and Fusco’s teasing. “I didn’t choose you – I mean, I picked you to compete with, not to be scavenger buddies. And you,” she said poking Lionel with her finger. “I am not making friends,” she snapped as if it was an unthinkable act.

“Oh, I don’t know…,” John mused on purpose. “I think you’re becoming very popular.”

Now, the friends’ teasing of Shaw was because it was their testosterone way of saying they liked her as a friend. It was not being as well received by Root, who usually didn’t give into any jealous feelings.

Until Shaw arrived.

“What is this thing anyway?” Fusco asked and Reese explained it was a fundraiser run by BEAR where teams had to hunt down clues throughout Central Park. The winning team got to name the charity.

“I’m going to win,” Shaw said assuredly.

“You mean … _we’re_ going to win, don’t you, Shaw?” Reese asked.

“Whatever,” Sameen responded.

“Oh, I think you guys will need an NYPD presence at this thing,” Lionel said, because he did not want to miss erratic Hurricane Shaw matched up with the slow moving Storm Reese.

Root listened, but her attention was back a few sentences. “ _Who_ was disappointed?” she asked again.

“Anyone who wants to win,” Sameen answered, missing the signal that Root was getting bothered.

“Hmmm,” Root said, wondering how she would find out who exactly fit into that category.

“Could we get back to the important issue here?” Shaw demanded, holding her perfect target sheets. “Why didn’t I bet you guys? Ugh…,” Shaw lamented, throwing her head back in regret. “Oh, because I didn’t know you two were coming,” she remembered. “Next time you invite Frick and Frack would you please give me a heads up?” she begged Root.

“Yes,” Root said, because her mind was on other things.

Root had been right – the whole exercise was the perfect distraction for Shaw. She satisfied her thirst for revenge in a much more civilized manner that actually had worked.

* * *

“Janine, do you have any tape?” Sameen asked, and proceeded to hang her target sheets up on the wall along with Reese’s and Fusco’s.

“Wow, Shaw, the only thing that out does your agility is your modesty,” Reese noted.

“Said the man who lost,” Shaw pointed out.

“Don’t forget her gracefulness at winning,” Fusco added.

“Said the second man who lost,” Shaw retorted unfazed.

Root listened to the banter that she had come to know among the friends, but she was watching something else. She was observing anyone who came over to see what the fuss was about. And she was watching anyone who talked to Shaw. It seemed to have gone unnoticed that so many people were friendly with Sameen now. It wasn’t just Janine; it was the people in the security department, the others on the floor.

“ _This is ridiculous_ ,” the mature Root chastised herself. “I _have nothing to be threatened about_.” Her constant reminders should have made perfect sense to the cognitive genius. And they did. But there was a pang in her heart that didn’t seem to be listening.  
She said goodbye to everyone and went upstairs. She needed to talk this through with someone who would be fair, yet firm. Someone who would give it to her straight.

She needed Bear.

* * *

Rarely, if ever, did Root demand that the canine be brought to her office, but that day she did. Even Bear knew something was up and howled his notice to Root as soon as he got there.

“Yes, I know you were in class, but I need to talk now,” Root said, in a tone the canine friend had rarely heard Root use. He tried to think back when he last heard it. Oh, yes….now he remembered. The night that Sameen was seeing her old friend, Cole.

“Are you listening to me?” Root said, and Bear decided he better listen. “This is ridiculous, I know,” Root began and the dog sighed because if it was so ridiculous, why did she need to talk about it. Humans made so little sense to him most days. “She’s hot, she’s good with a gun, our nights together are like a four alarm fire in an oil refinery…,” Root described to the dog. He wanted to question the limited time period of nights, but he didn’t want to interrupt. “We’re …..in love,” Root said and then thought about it. “I’m …in love…,” she said slowly and it didn’t take a genius dog to see where this was going. He argued his point by several long barks that sounded both urgent and loud. “Yes,” Root said, but it gave her pause, “….but I’m the only one who said it.” Root was smart enough to know that Sameen didn’t have to say it to show it. She got ahold of herself. “No, _we’re_ in love,” she decided. “This feeling, Bear……I feel jealous. I’ve never felt it,” Root expressed openly. Bear put his head on her lap and looked up at her as she sat down on the couch. “I would …be lost without her,” she confessed to her animal sounding board.

Bear did his best to convey that he really didn’t think Root had anything to worry about and that the compact Persian was as in love with her as she was with Shaw. But that was a lot for someone to say without the gift of speech.

So, he decided he’d just have to get Shaw to help Root feel more secure.

Now, _that_ , he knew how to do.


	89. Searing Desire

Sameen returned that night with Root to the Penthouse and the delicious lamb dinner that Isabelle had prepared. The chef laughed when she shared that her husband was getting jealous that she was putting in so much overtime at the Grove residence, but she explained to him that she had someone who truly appreciated her culinary skills and meant no offense to Root. None was taken. Root realized watching Sameen enjoy a meal could be a religious experience.

The meal was so good, that it even managed to help Sameen forget about her wound. She had pointed two fingers at her eyes and then Bear, but he sat there, not intimidated. He had a mission, and was working out the details.

“I know I’m going to regret saying this out loud, because I know one day it will be used against me at my sanity hearing, but I swear he’s ignoring me on purpose,” Sameen shouted into the bathroom where Root was getting ready for bed.

Hours before, Shaw made the weak attempt to say she was going to return to her apartment, but Root reminded her they had not looked at her bite, and she’d feel better if Sameen was there so she could keep an eye on her. Those were two independent thoughts. Sameen made the usual eye roll, saying it was ridiculous and she could remove bullets from wounds; she figured she could manage to put some salve on it, but she stayed nonetheless.

“Don’t you think you’re taking this a little too seriously?” Sameen asked when Root emerged from the bathroom.

“Why do you say that?” Root inquired, unable to keep the devilish smile off her face.

“Because you’re dressed up…. like a doctor?” Sameen pointed out. Root stood there in a white coat, with a stethoscope around her neck, holding bandages and salve.

“Well,” Root said, looking down the front of her lab coat, “…not completely.” Shaw had to give her credit for most imaginative way to dress a wound.

“I bet you were a wonderful doctor,” Root said later after her entire body had been examined and entertained.

“I was a terrible doctor,” Sameen said, out of breath.

Root turned quickly and put her finger on Sameen’s lips. “Don’t say that, Sameen. They had no idea what they had in you. You were the best damn resident they had.”

“Root,” Shaw said, leaning up on her elbows. “I sucked. I mean, I was one of the best technical doctors, but I lacked compassion. You can’t dress that up.”

Root didn’t like to be told she was wrong, especially when the other person was right. “You needed the right teacher,” she decided and ended the conversation. Root had a hard time seeing any flaws in her lover.

“I’m okay, Root. I know who I am,” Shaw assured her. “And I am going to win that scavenger hunt tomorrow,” she said, because competition was important to Shaw.

“I can’t wait for you to collect your prize, then,” Root said playfully.

“I get to choose a charity?” Shaw asked.

“Not that prize, silly,” Root said, playing with the hair that framed Sameen’s face. “You get to do anything you want with the CEO.” Even saying it made

Root laugh.

“You know I’m on _Team_ Shaw- Reese, right?” Sameen teased back.

“Sorry, only one winner,” Root said, snuggling next to the woman she loved.

* * *

There was a noticeable increase in the number of employee attendees that year at the BEAR Scavenger Hunt and much of that had to do with the fact that Shaw was there. She was approaching this fun event with the intensity some military people do when invading enemy territory. The first thing Root noticed was that the t- shirts had been changed to Team _Shaw-Reese_.

Harold and Grace were there to oversee the event. And Gen was excited to cheer on her favorite person. Fusco brought his son, Lee along.

“What do we do if Aunt Sameen loses?” the youth wondered out loud.

“Run,” his father answered without hesitation.

“I couldn’t wear a shirt that cheered on any _one_ team,” Root said as Shaw complained about having to wear the required attire. “I hope you understand,” she said, taking off her jacket.

“Of course,” Shaw said and was going to say that no one should have to wear these things when she noticed Root’s attire. “Really, Root?”

“What?” Root said, looking around like she had no idea what Sameen could be referring to.

“You’re shirt … It says – ‘ **G** ood **O** pportunity – **S** ave **H** ounds **A** ny **W** here’?” Sameen read out loud. The first letter of each word was bolded.

“Everyone knows I’m a huge animal activist,” Root pointed out.

“And a genius,” Shaw added. “So, I bet they’ll be surprised you didn’t know anywhere was one word.”

“Oh, damn,” Root said, looking down. “A typo,” she said, keeping up the charade that even Bear wasn’t buying. __

* * *

Harold explained the rules – each team would be handed a clue about where the next clue was. When they reached the final clue, they would find the medallion. The team that returned first was the winners. Sounded simple enough until you considered that the clues were placed in various parts of the park that would require teamwork in order to get them. “It will require your cognitive cooperation and your physical collaboration,” Harold said before telling them they would start soon.

“Great!” Fusco said out loud. “ _Cooperation_ and _collaboration_ , Shaw. Do you want me to review what those mean?” He wasn’t kidding.

“Aunt Sameen!” Lee said, hugging the petite woman whom he didn’t get to see as often as he’d like.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sameen saw Gen, hesitating to come forward. So, she called her over.

“Hello, Shaw,” Gen said, wanting to hug, but unsure until Shaw pulled her into one of her bear hugs.

“You’re hurting me,” Gen said, with the biggest smile of her face.

“Tough,” Shaw said back and it was the perfect answer. “So, you going to cheer me on today?” she asked the youth, finally letting go. Root watched with adoring eyes the way Sameen teased the girl.

“I might,” Gen teased. Her response prompted Shaw to pull her in again until she promised through all the giggling that she would indeed be cheering for her. “You know this is going to take teamwork, right?” Gen asked, concerned about that part.

“Hey, I’m all about teamwork, Kid,” Shaw said, unconvincingly.

“Teamwork as in …working…together. Not, one person in charge of the other,” Gen gently pointed out as she looked around.

Shaw’s mouth opened because she was going to quip how she knew the difference, but it pointed out that she had the latter definition in mind. But Shaw was all about walking the walk. “Oh, so you mean like you and Lee Fusco cheering us on together?” Gen’s head shot up to look at the woman who was teaching her a thing or two.

“Well, I don’t really know him….,” Gen said of the slightly older boy.

“He’s a really nice kid,” Shaw said, in a sing song kind of voice.

“He calls you – _Aunt_ ,” Gen said, and now Root watched carefully. Sameen was sharp enough to get what Gen’s statement meant.

“Yeah, it’s annoying. I prefer ‘ _Shaw_ ’,” Sameen said with a deep sigh.

“Like I call you?” Gen asked, her voice filled with hope.

“Exactly,” Sameen confirmed. “Maybe you could ….you know…remind him?” she requested, giving them some common ground.

Gen looked over at the boy whom she secretly thought was cute. “Nah,” she decided. “Let that be our thing.”

“You got it, Kid,” Shaw said, pulling her in for one more hug.

“You’re hurting me,” Gen repeated of the tight grip.

Root watched as Sameen released Gen. The youth immediately went over to Lee and struck up a conversation. “Looks like they’re going to be friends,” Root said as she watched. “Thanks to you.”

“Oh, yeah, well…..they should, you know,” Sameen said.

Root was most interested in how the tween had tackled her feelings of jealousy. Perhaps there was something to learn there. Root was being very optimistic and open about that when Martine approached.

“Hey, Shaw, good luck today,” she said and patted Sameen hard on the back.

“You, too,” Shaw said, knowing they’d make a great second place team.

“Don’t forget,” Martine said …”You promised to do the firing range with me next week.”

“I’ll put it on her calendar,” yelled Janine coming up behind them. “She’s busy in the middle of the week, so you might want to schedule something now.”

“Wait…how do you …know …?” Sameen was asking, but they weren’t paying any attention to her.

“Can I get Monday?” Martine asked worried it was already taken.

Janine pulled out her phone and looked. “Monday’s open,” she reported in all seriousness and added she had to decide now because she expected that

Shaw’s popularity rating would definitely go up after this event.

“Wait…I don’t want …. I am not popular. Root,” Shaw called out to her favorite source of support. “Make them stop. I don’t want to be popular.”

“I’ll take Monday. Put me down,” Martine urged with her finger pointing to the phone and her partner did so.

“I’ll send you an email confirmation,” the thoroughly efficient self-appointed secretary said.

Root shrugged her shoulders, thinking Sameen’s refusal to be center of attention was only going to make her the center of attention more. “I’ll keep track of your schedule,” Root assured her. “I know how to keep you busy.”

“Yes, Root, please,” Sameen begged without realizing what she was asking. “Keep me busy.”

“Not a problem,” Root all but sang thinking of all the ways she could fill Sameen’s nights.

“Good morning, Partner,” Reese said approaching the group.

“Reese! Where have you been?” asked Sameen because they were getting lined up.

“I was bringing you this,” he said, and produced the largest bagel Sameen had ever seen. He glanced sideways at Root and smiled. He knew the way to Shaw’s heart.

“Okay,” she said, taking the freshly baked goods and biting into it. “Oh, this is good,” she had to admit.

Root walked over to Shaw and wished her good luck. “There’s no sense in pretending who I’m rooting for,” she admitted and Sameen said – _ok_. That was all Root needed to grab the woman by the shoulders and pull her in to the longest, sweetest good luck kiss on record.

“Oot,” Sameen finally said, unable to move her lips that were locked onto Root’s at the moment.

“Oh,” Root said, realizing they were calling everyone to assemble.

“Line up, everyone,” Harold called out and Shaw started to urge Reese to catch up. Of course, her mouth was full so it was rather a comical string of commands. Each team received the first clue which they were to open once they were both in the row boat that would take them to the first destination on the other side of the lake. Harold fired the starter gun, and the duos jumped into the row boat and started the race.

There was yelling and cheering and Shaw could hardly make out Fusco’s voice over them.

“SHAW!” he yelled as he raised his arms and waved. “You forget something?”

Sameen looked down to make sure she had the envelope. “What?” she asked, annoyed Fusco was slowing her down.

He pointed to the shore – where Reese stood – waiting for her to row back.


	90. Don't Feed the Animals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My apologies for fabricating a great deal of the geography of Central Park to suit the story's needs.  
> And to all who leave me comments - I do so appreciate it.

It didn’t matter that the teams all started out together, as each team was going to be assigned different paths to get their next clues to the medallion. This way, one team simply couldn’t follow another and figure out the puzzle. But no team could open their first clue until they reached the first stop at Bethesda Fountain.

Root stood on the dock, biting her lip hard because she didn’t want to smile right now. Her adorable girlfriend was beyond frustrated at the moment as she rowed back to Loeb Boathouse and yelled at Reese from the boat, the entire way. Root wished she could go in John’s place and soothe the frazzled woman, but that job was going to be left to him. Root turned to give John a sympathetic, and pleading, look, as if to ask not to push the woman any further.

“Really, Reese?” Shaw said coming across the water at a clip.

Root – and the world – breathed a sigh of relief when John simply said – “Sorry, Shaw.”

But let’s remember that Reese was a mere mortal with limits on how patient he could be with hot headed coworkers. He got into the boat that hardly stopped for him and almost lost his footing, stepping past his partner.

“I say she tries to shoot him before they reach the bridge,” Fusco said and then asked Harold if any of them were armed.

“I truly hope not,” Harold said and watched with trepidation as the last team tried to settle in the boat.

John sat down and grabbed for the oars the same time as Shaw did. “I got this,” she said, snarling.

“No, you don’t,” John said, thinking his more powerful upper body strength would help them catch up.

“You’re gonna blow our chances,” Sameen said, her hands still on the oars.

“I’m rowing this boat, Shaw,” John said in a low voice. Not low enough that Fusco and Root couldn’t hear and see what was going on.

“Not on my watch,” Shaw said back, refusing to let go.

Fusco asked Root what they could do and wondered if Shaw would be upset if he just tazed her for the rest of the event. “They’re a team!” Root admonished the detective who still wondered out loud if his good friend really understood that part.

Ok, he had a point.

Root ran closer to the boat and suggested to Sameen that since they had to make up some time due to John’s _error_ …. _she did throw him an apologetic look for throwing him under the boat; so to speak, -_ ….that maybe John could row while Sameen got ready to read the first clue as soon as they landed. It made perfect sense, but still wasted a couple of seconds while Sameen thought it over. She hated relinquishing control.

“Fine!” she said, pushing off the oars so John could start rowing. “You better be good at this, Reese,” she warned.

“Does she have anything on her clothing that would help us find her if he dumps her in the lake?” Fusco asked Root.

“They’re going to do just fine!” Root said, and while there was great conviction in that sentence, there was only a smattering of confidence.

Even Root suspected there would be some bumps.

* * *

Reese got them to the first stop, even beating some of the slower rowers. “Stay here!” barked the former marine and jumped off like she was storming the beach at Normandy. John shook his head and steadied the boat from the leap she took to get on dry land.

“At this rate, she’ll exhaust herself,” said the Army trained strategist. John knew a thing or two about conserving energy to cover the full mission.

Shaw ran up to the Bethesda Fountain after several other team members shouted out their best wishes to her. “Good luck, Ms. Shaw,” said one team whose members seemed to be strolling through the park. Shaw smiled and waved, but was thinking the whole time – “I’m beating _you_ , and _you_ , and definitely _strolling-in-the-park_ team.”

That was the only thing that slowed Sameen down as she stared at her first clue and looked up. "What does it say, Shaw?" John called out.

“ _Angel of the Water gazes down on you. Feel your way around for your second clue,_ ” she shouted back at him.  The large angelic statue was atop the fountain and since it was gazing down, Sameen figured the clue was up near the figure that was some twenty-five feet in the air. Although there were signs clearly visible not to enter the water, Sameen put her foot over the edge to begin her ascent.

Reese had tethered the boat and climbed out to follow the woman. After hearing the clue, he knew where Shaw was headed and jumped out to dissuade her.  “Shaw,” he called in a warning tone, but not before both of her feet were in the water.

“I told you to wait in the boat,” Sameen argued like a married couple at the mall.

“Shaw, think about it. Would Harold want anyone to deface public property?” John, the logistical man suggested.

Shaw stood there, right in front of the ‘Do Not Go in Water’ sign. Reese had a point. She climbed back out, water dripping heavily off her pants and shoes.

John walked around the base of the fountain until he noticed something that seemed out of place. There, in the crack of the base, was a piece of paper with Clue #2.

Root watched from Bow Bridge with a high powered pair of binoculars. “Are they killing each other?” Fusco asked worried.

“No, and I think he talked her out of the fountain,” Root said, thankful Sameen listened. “Harold, you were clear that there were no dangerous places that clues were placed, right?”

“The instructions were very clear, indeed,” Harold said, because he would never want anyone to get hurt in this exercise. “I believe Miss Shaw was the only one disappointed in that.”

“How so?” Fusco asked.

“She referred to this as the _Weenie Olympics_ ,” Harold shared.

Root could tell from Sameen’s body language as they headed back to their boat that she was, in fact, disappointed, that she didn’t get to scale the large structure.

* * *

“What kind of lame ass adventure hunt is this…,” Sameen said, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her as they returned to the boat, “….if the clues are going to be left right out in front of you. I could just send you and be enjoying lunch at Tavern on the Green.”

“You do know it’s a scavenger hunt, not a Navy Seals test, right Shaw?” John asked, staring at his partner as she reentered the boat.

“Funny, Reese. Did you rent that sense of humor for the day?” Shaw retorted.

Reese ignored the barb and opened up the next envelope. “I _adorn a package or can help you aim. You’ll find Clue #3 in my frame,_ ” he read out loud.

“What the hell adorns a package?” Shaw asked out loud. “Stamps,” she decided.

“How does that help you aim?” John asked, perturbing the woman.

“You could send a message…straight …to someone,” Shaw answered, hearing that wasn’t right. Her arm movement made her think of what she could aim. “It’s …bow! Bow Bridge,” she said, connecting the dots.

Then both of them grabbed for the oars. “It’s mine turn to row this thing,” Sameen said, thinking ducks swam faster than John's rowing.

* * *

It was a short boat ride to Bow Bridge, but long enough for the partners to exchange their valid reasons to want to kill one another.

“You’re egotistical,” John could be heard saying as they approached.

“Because I have an ego,” Shaw responded, powering her paddling with her anger. They were catching up in no time.

“Oh, dear,” Harold said because the whole premise of the exercise was team building.

“Is Aunt Sameen winning?” Lee asked, as he and Gen joined the adults on the bridge.

“She’s doing something,” Fusco said as he watched her push John out of her way to get out of the boat.

“Remember what you said, Shaw,” Gen called down in happy voice as she and Lee ran off together.

Sameen did remember what she said. She may not have meant it applied to her, but she remembered telling Gen about teamwork. “You know why I can’t stand kids,” Shaw suddenly asked Reese.

“They remember everything you say?” he asked, from his own experience.

“Yes!” Sameen answered, and it was the first thing they agreed on all day.

John reached up to retrieve the next clue as the boat gently rocked. “ _My life made its way to Broadway and became a hit. But a duel years before, had put an end to it.”_

Together the pair put the hints together and came up with – “ _Alexander Hamilton_ ,” the US Secretary of State who died in a dual with Aaron Burr in 1804. He was also the subject of the megahit Broadway show – “ _Hamilton_.”

“He has a statue in the park,” Shaw said and started rowing to shore as Reese looked up its location.

* * *

Several minutes later, Shaw bulldozed her way through the crowds and Reese followed, often apologizing to the people she tossed out of her way, until they reached the tall statue.

Once more, Reese searched the base of the large figure as Sameen climbed it – because – well, it was there. “Shaw?” John said, as she tried to put her foot onto another part of the structure it didn’t belong. She turned to see why he insisted on slowing her down, when she saw him waving the next clue. Her annoyance at what she mistook as his smugness caused her to lose her footing and topple backwards.

The only thing that stood between Sameen’s brains and the concrete that would have caused them to spill, was Reese’s quickness in catching her.

She wasn’t certain this was better.

She froze at the sensation of being in John’s powerful arms. She preferred not knowing that he was in such good shape. And John froze because he was holding human dynamite with the shortest fuse known to humankind.

“Reese?” Shaw said, her eyes clenched shut.

“Yeah, Shaw?” John asked, not moving.

“Put…..me…..down,” Shaw instructed, not angrily because she was too embarrassed to be angry.

“Sure thing, Shaw,” John said as if he hadn’t thought of it himself. He placed her on her feet while she tried to push off the feeling of disgrace by wiping her hands down along her arms and legs. She consoled herself with the fact that Reese was not the kind of man who would tell anyone this happened.

But some people have death wishes.

“Hey, now _that’s_ what I call falling for your partner,” yelled Devlin from Accounting, as he and his partner closed in on their last few clues.

Shaw was faster, but John had those long arms and he caught her mid-flight as she went to chase down Devlin and retaliate. John wasn’t surprised at how quick she was, but he was amazed at how hard he had to hold onto her so she couldn’t get loose.

“Shaw, we have to keep going,” he said, as if they were in a mission in Afghanistan, which – from the look of his partner – they could have been.

“Fine!” Shaw relented and hated that Reese was right.

John opened the next clue, which led them to one of the tallest trees in the park. This was going to require climbing, but not the clawing up limb by limb that Sameen was accustomed to. In order to reach their final clue, Shaw was going to have to go up on John’s shoulders to grab it. It was going to take real teamwork and after both of them barked orders at each other, they managed to maneuver into place and Sameen reached and retrieved it.

Reese rubbed his shoulders after she leapt down. “Don't be a baby,” the marine commented.

“You’re like a bag of solid cement,” John remarked and Sameen was the only woman he knew who took that as a compliment.

Shaw scoffed and read the last clue out loud. “ _You can’t eat us; you can’t feed us, even if we beg. Come visit us at home on your very last leg. It’s a house of many colors, but we three have little at all. In here lies your medallion. Come, give us a call_.”

“Well, this might be the most terrifying part of the scavenger hunt for you,” Reese said in his even tone.

“The zoo? I’m not afraid of animals,” Shaw responded. “Even snow leopards,” she said, solving the riddle.

“Yeah, but there’s no food there,” Reese bantered as they walked towards their final destination.

“Tell me something, Reese. Does Joss find you funny or is she just being polite because she was raised to respect….her elders,” Shaw verbally barbed with her partner.

“You know, there are mice that run around at the zoo,” John noted out loud and actually made Shaw stop in her tracks for a second.

“Not cool, Reese,” she told him, because he crossed the line. “I hope this medallion is in the leopard’s mouth. I really do,” she said.

“Don’t worry, Shaw, I’m sure he’ll understands the food chain and will just let you look,” John said as his partner rambled on about ….well, everything.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the duo arrived at the zoo and the exhibit. “Did I ever tell you about the time I was in Kazakstan?” John asked in a friendly tone.

“No,” Shaw said, thinking this was the worst time to be trading war stories. They couldn’t find the medallion.

“They have snow leopards there, but it’s rare you get to see them,” John furthered the conversation.

“Then this must be a real treat for you,” Shaw said, walking around the perimeter. She was oblivious to anything going on inside the exhibit where the great cats were.

“Got to study them in their natural habitat,” John said, taking his time to make his point. He was so fascinated by what was happening that he forgot about the medallion.

“Okay, Bear Grylls, thanks for that information. Now, could you help me find the damn medallion so this _Disney Trip on Spikes_ can end?” Shaw barked.

“Look,” John said, and now everyone that was there was busy watching the odd behavior of the three cats.

“What?” Shaw said, standing there with her hands on her hips. The three large cats were moving wildly back and forth along the ridges and rocks of their enclosure.

“They sense danger. They’re afraid,” John said, and decided they these felines were used to people gawking at them all the time. This had to be something ….someone….. that they detected.

He had a pretty good guess who it was.

“Pfft,” Shaw said of the connection Reese was making. “FOUND IT!” she yelled as she bent down and looked under the _Snow Leopard i_ nformation plaque.

“Let’s go!” she yelled to Reese who smiled at the worried felines.

Animal instinct is rarely wrong.


	91. Breakfast of Champions

Reese watched as the large leopards calmed down the farther away Shaw walked from their enclosure. They understood danger when they sensed it and he thought they were right. His partner was so intense and right now she was yelling for him to catch up because they had to get back. In all the time John had observed the snow leopards, he never thought he saw them look sympathetic, but he swore they did right now. “Yeah,” he said to them, as he left and referring to Shaw’s ranting that … _she did not come all this way to lose!_

* * *

In the meantime, Root was pacing the bridge. She didn’t want to interfere in any of the goings on, so she remained with the others. She had every faith that Sameen would be the first to return. She just hoped it would be with Reese.

* * *

Reese finally did catch up to Shaw as her yelling for him drew more attention that almost any other park exhibition. “Alright, Shaw,” the patient man finally said. “You know it’s supposed to be fun, right?”

“What?” Shaw asked, as if someone just told her parachuting in the dead of night into enemy compounds was – ‘just for exercise’. “You know, this is why they send the marines in first, right?” she retorted.

John was the kind of guy who didn’t get hot under the collar if you picked on him, but there was a limit to what you could say about his branch of the military. Now, he could have stood there and talked smack with his fellow veteran, or he could incite her and put that anger to good use.

“Look, Reese!” Sameen said, seeing Devlin and his partner from Accounting already in the boat and rowing back to home base. “The Accountants are beating us, for God’s sake!” Shaw practically leapt through the air landing on the far side of the canoe as John stepped down into it on his side. “ _Accounting_!” Shaw repeated, looking him square in the eye as if this was the Cold War and the Russians were beating them.

Now, if Sameen had just started rowing as soon as Reese sat down, they probably would have propelled right past Devlin’s team. But she took a couple of minutes to lecture how it would be beyond embarrassing to lose this race.

“Oh, look, the Legal team is beating us now,” John pointed out and sent fire through Shaw’s arms as she began to row.

“Why don’t we just come in last place?” Shaw shouted, as she rowed past a couple of boats with ease.

John sat there like the stoker of a locomotive who shovels coal to keep the steam coming to operate the train. All he had to do was hint that someone was beating them and Shaw’s limbs went into hyper drive. Until they edged up on Martine and Janine who, in her exuberance, stood up to cheer Sameen and John on ….. and fell out of her canoe.

The Central Park Lake is not deep; however the condition of the water is very questionable. What wasn’t disputed was whether or not Janine could swim because she kept screaming that she couldn’t - when her head was above water that was. 

Root, Fusco and the rest of the crowd were on shore now watching the event unfold. Fusco was busy calling for help. John was standing up at the same time as Martine, but they heard the splash of the team member who beat them to the plunge.

“Oh, sonova…,” was what John heard right before Shaw dove into the water. The screaming from shore stopped as time seemed to slow down. Finally, the couple emerged above water. Shaw gasped for air as she swam with her right arm; Janine holding on for dear life onto her left one.

Root grabbed a blanket from the Ranger and ran right into the water. By this time, John and Martine were approaching Shaw so they could help pull Janine out of the water. Root watched in total awe as her girlfriend ascended from the water like a glistening drenched goddess, carrying Janine in her arms.

“Oh, my God!” Root whispered at how badass Sameen was. She rushed at her as John and Martine grabbed Janine from Shaw.

“You okay, Shaw?” John asked, before walking back.

“Yeah,” Shaw said and meant it.

“You were right; you marines are always first,” he smiled as he watched Root grab Shaw in the blanket.

“Are you okay?” Root asked,  holding onto Shaw tightly. “You’re shivering.”

EMT’s rushed to the scene as people videotaped the rescue, sending it out on social media almost as fast as Shaw instinctively jumped into the water.

“You saved me! Shaw saved me!” Janine called out from the stretcher the EMT’s put her on, taking over for John and Martine. She had banged her head on the boat and the blood was visible.

“Oh, this is going to make the news,” Fusco accurately predicted.

Root was with Shaw as she waved off the offer of help from the medics on the scene. “Oh, Sameen!” Root said, kneeling in front of her as she sat on the stone bench. Shaw coughed some more water out and pushed her hair off her face. “I’m okay,” she said, grabbing Root’s arm to assure her.

“Ma’am, you really should let us take a look at you,” the EMT tried again, but one look from Shaw and Root knew she meant business.

“I’ll have a doctor look at her,” Root assured him and then turned back to Shaw. “A real doctor.”

“There’s no need, honest. I’m okay,” Shaw said and now people rushed at them.

“Shaw!” Gen said, reaching out and hugging the drenched woman. “Are you okay?”

Shaw allowed the hug, even though she worried what infestation of microbes she might be transporting. “Yeah, Kid, I’m okay.”

“Now _this_ one’s refusing to go with us,” an EMT announced and Harold begged Janine to go, but she said she was fine and insisted on seeing her rescuer. Her gash wasn’t deep and required no stiches. Martine got two TEAM BEAR sweatshirts and gave one to Janine and brought the other to Shaw.

“Put this on, Sweetie,” Root said, thanking Martine for the warm clothing.

Shaw was out of breath, but was warming up when Root put the company logo jacket on her. “Oh, just shoot me now,” Sameen said, but Root wouldn’t let her argue.

“You put it on, or you go with the EMT to the hospital  – your choice,” Root said, in a no-nonsense tone that made John look at Fusco.

“Fine!” Shaw conceded and allowed Root to pull the jacket on her and zip it up. She then sat next to Shaw, hugging her and rubbing her arms to get her warm. She knew better than to argue with the rescuer, but had every intention of having her see a doctor.

“Are you okay, Miss Shaw?” Harold asked, as he and Grace rushed up to the scene.

“Yes, thank you,” Shaw said, politely.

“She saved my life! If it weren’t for her, I would have drowned! I can’t swim,” repeated Janine as people gathered around to hear her side of the heroic deed.

“It’s six feet deep,” Shaw said to Root.

“Hey, she could have drowned in less,” Root said and John and Fusco agreed.

“Martine was right behind me,” Shaw said, acknowledging her efforts.

“Thank you, Martine,” Root said and made the woman feel greatly appreciated.

“Can we give out the awards?” someone shouted and the concerned crowd turned to see Devlin and his partner wondering what all the fuss was about. Janine turned on her heels and began shouting at him as the crowd followed her to admonish the clueless man.

“It would seem the Accounting Team won,” Harold said with great disappointment because he was sure Shaw and Reese were going to win.

“We’ll get them next year, Shaw,” John said, just happy everyone was okay. He walked away with Fusco and left the couple alone.

* * *

“Are you okay, Sameen? I mean ... _really_ ,” Root asked her while pulling up the zipper on the jacket even farther.

“You mean…except for my pride?” Shaw smiled, allowing Root to continue hugging her even though the public display made her very uncomfortable.

“Sameen! You save someone’s life. You were wonderful! You looked like… like _Undine Rising from the Waters,_ ” Root said of the Chauncey Ives’ statue. “You ….looked….heroic,” Root said slowly, grabbing Sameen and kissing her hard.

“Oh,” Sameen replied, many seconds later when Root released her. “Okay, thanks.”

“Now, I’m taking you home,” Root said, getting Shaw up on her feet slowly.

“Under the circumstances, and given that the lead team is missing a member, I would like to suggest that all the teams select their favorite charities, and the prize money will be divided among those,” Harold said to the applause of the crowd. Harold was referring to Devlin who was running away from Janine. 

“Look at that, Shaw,” Fusco said, coming back to check on his friend. “You won anyway.”

John walked Sameen over to the waiting car as Fusco pulled Root over for a minute. “You’ll have her checked out, right?” he asked, very concerned.

“Absolutely,” Root said, the arrangements already made. Then, she returned to the car where everyone was saying goodbye to Sameen.

“You know she’s gonna hate this popularity thing, right?” John said to Root.

“Yes,” Root said, but figured she help Shaw through it.

“You take care of her, okay?” Reese asked concerned about his partner.

“She’s in very good hands, John,” Root said and meant that literally. Even John knew that.

“Take care of her please ….,” yelled Janine, who was winded from chasing Devlin into the park for being such an ass. She stopped running when Martine told her she would get him.

Devlin didn’t stand a chance.

* * *

Sameen had never seen such pandemonium. She smiled uncomfortably and waved goodbye to her adoring fellow workers. “You guys ….need something ….,” was all she could say. Safely in the backseat of the car now, Sameen tried to take the embarrassing TEAM BEAR spirit wear off.

“No, you don’t,” Root said, gently pushing Sameen’s hands away. “Keep that on until we get you upstairs.”

Sameen was too tired to argue with Root. Since Root hadn’t pressed her on going with the EMT’s, she’d give in on this. She left the sweatshirt on and proceeded upstairs with Root to the Penthouse.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” Shaw announced as soon as she walked in and removed the jacket. “I need a shower.”

“Yes, but first….,” Root said in the sweetest of voices.

“Food?” Shaw said, excited that Root would have planned ahead. “Anything but fish,” she joked until she saw the woman standing there in Root’s living room.

“Sameen, this is Doctor Kwee. She’s going to take a quick look to make sure that you’re really okay,” said the woman in charge.

“But I said…,” the former marine attempted to remind Root.

“Yes, I know,” Root replied with the sorriest expression on her face, as her hand gently pushed on Shaw’s back until she was near the doctor.

“I hear you rescued a woman from the Lake,” the doctor said, taking her stethoscope and putting it on Sameen’s chest and listening. When she put her hand on Sameen’s wrist, Shaw’s instinct kicked in and she pulled it away. “Sameen,” Root said in the tone you use when you want to sound like you’re asking for compliance, but the other person really doesn’t have a choice.

“Fine!” Shaw said, because even she knew Root was in charge. For now.

The doctor looked in her ears, eyes and mouth. “I don’t see any sign of anything unusual,” the doctor concluded and Sameen immediately turned to Root with the “ _SEE?_ ” expression all over her face.

“I told you,” Shaw said, defensively.

“But,” the doctor said cautiously and irritating the life out of Shaw who moaned the delay, “…..I want you to keep an eye on her for any infections that might be manifesting.”

“Oh, I will, Doctor Kwee,” Root assured the physician, thinking she’d like nothing better than to be in charge of Shaw’s body.

The doctor left Root with instructions to call her if she noticed any symptoms of infections. Root thanked her and walked her to the elevator.

“Was that necessary?” Shaw asked, annoyed she had been subjected to that.

“Yes, it was. Now, come take a warm bath and I’ll have Isabelle make you anything you want,” Root promised.

She walked Shaw upstairs to the master bathroom where warm water was already filling the tub. “How…did you…,” Shaw asked, but didn’t wait for the answer.

“I have to stay,” Root said, as Shaw undressed.

“No, I’m good,” Shaw countered, hoping to end the day with one shred of dignity left.

“No, the doctor said I have to keep an eye on you,” Root said, pouring water through Sameen’s hair and applying shampoo.

“Root…I don’t …think…she meant literally…okay, _that_ feels really good,” Sameen confessed and gave in …again.


	92. Stirred, Not Shaken*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the backwards version of the original phrase - based on Root's feelings.

Sameen had to admit – her evening made up for the terrible morning she had by far. In the quiet recess of bed the next morning, she smiled when she thought how Root went to all kinds of measures to make sure she was comfortable. The warm bath, the specialty ordered dinner, the cuddling on the couch watching television, and then the careful inspection of any place on her body that could become infected. Sameen bit her lip to think that her own form of repayment was expressed in Root’s screams of sheer delight. She was beginning to appreciate that Root was, in fact, game for anything.

Sameen stumbled out of bed, one that was mysteriously void of Root. She dressed, opened the door and could hear her downstairs, already enmeshed in a discussion. She slowly made her way down to the wafting aroma of sausage that she hoped would be accompanied by eggs or pancakes. Make that ….. _and_ pancakes. Sameen hit her stomach and decided she better up her workout regimen if she was going to keep with Isabelle’s cooking.  She stopped at the bottom step long enough to see Root bent over the laptop, Bear at her side.

“This one?” she heard Root say and then, when the dog howled his answer, she pressed more keys.

“Making his Christmas list?” Sameen asked and noticed how quickly the morning newspaper was pushed under the couch. "He knows they check which list you're on, right?"

“Good morning, Sleepyhead,” Root said and Sameen sat next to her on the couch. “Bear wanted more emoticons for his feelings display program.

“And …how …did he tell you this? In a memo or telepathically?” Sameen asked, hoping one day the canine’s charade would be up and she would jump up and down, shouting to the world – I TOLD YOU SO!

Today, was _not_ that day.

The dog listened and went over to his specially designed keypad – one with larger keys of course – and not so many – and hit one. Root looked at her laptop screen and bit her lip.

“What? What did he say about me?” Sameen demanded to know, as she turned the screen and saw the _rolling-eyes_ textual portrayal.

“Really?” Sameen said, answering him back. “Well, I can still express my thoughts in 3-D,” and was about to raise her hands, or specifically one digit, but Root pulled her hand back down.

“No need to antagonize,” Root cautioned her girlfriend, gently leaning into her.

And in the vernacular of siblings used all around the world, Sameen announced that Bear started it.

And in the same vein as sibling taunting, Bear immediately pressed his keyboard. Root slammed the laptop shut and put it out of Sameen’s reach, even though she begged to see it. Root was standing up, gently pulling Sameen with her and reminding her that breakfast was a few feet away. It did distract the shorter woman, but not before turning back to remind Bear she was watching him.

_As far as he was concerned, he had done his good deed last night when he wanted to work on the plan he had to make Shaw return the three words that Root had uttered. But each time he approached her, Root explained that Sameen had had a very long day. “See?” Root said to him and put the television on where the news of her rescue had made the headlines. His howl that he understood sounded amazingly similar to Sameen’s resigned – FINE! – to Root. Bear gave into Root’s wishes, as was his way. But he had worked really hard on what he felt was an excellent training program …..for Shaw … and he was anxious to try it out._

* * *

Root sat sipping her coffee – made specifically from her fair trade coffee beans that were imported and paid at a higher price. She had some news to break to Sameen and wanted to wait until the right moment. “Sweetie?” she said, taking a bite of croissant that Isabelle had made that morning.

“Hmm,” Sameen answered, her mouth full of a little of almost everything. “If you breakup with me, I’m taking her,” she said as part of her morning routine.

“I have to go … _shopping_ today,” Root said slowly, so it would sink in.

“Okay,” Sameen said and Root stared for a moment before looking over at the chef who was equally surprised.

“Really?” Root said, pleased the activity would require no cajoling. Not that Root wasn’t an excellent cajoler, mind you.

“Sure,” Sameen said, shoving in the last forkful of food from her plate. “Let me know how you make out,” she teased as she tried to make her getaway. With that taller frame, came longer arms and Sameen was soon caught before she could get away.

“Come with me,” Root begged her bodyguard, who by the very definition of her title, was bound to go with her.

“Can’t you …just…..get someone to stock your closet like they do fishing ponds, and then you could just shop in there,” Sameen suggested, making the motion of throwing your cast out to sea to catch fish.

“I have a friend who has that, but she’s incredibly wealthy,” Root shared. “I just need to get a dress.”

“O…..kay,” Sameen said, but in between those syllables, she threw her head back.

Then Root got a great idea! Or, at least, she thought so. “We should double with them sometime,” she thought out loud, thinking it would be nice.

“Double? What do you mean?” Sameen asked, as if she’d never heard the term for two couples going out to dinner together.

“You know, when one couple goes out to dinner with another couple, usually friends?” Root said, certain Sameen knew the term.

“Oh…..,” Sameen said, and the word hung there, surrounded by deafening silence.

It was hard to tell if Bear’s ears perked up because he could sense the impending disaster Sameen was about to create, or if he could hear Root’s tone of voice change.

“If you don’t want to….,” she offered, but felt bothered that Sameen would be hesitant.

“Oh, it’s just that ...double…dating…?” Sameen said back, as if it required two pints of blood, a skin graft, and a commitment to donate an organ.

Double dating to Sameen was combining two things she hated, but that was because dates were usually short term connections for sex. Why would she ever want to combine that with the other thing she hated – socializing? But … this …was not …that ….and the very bright, very beautiful woman should have been able to update the software of her heart to reflect that. She had forgotten to do that.

“Well, I thought it might be fun, but … it’s okay,” Root said, because Root would never impose anything like that on Sameen. “I’ll get my coat.”

Now, Sameen was left there to deal with the guilt that crept up quickly and was confirmed by the dead stare of the canine who could tell what just happened. “God, you are so critical,” Sameen said to him. “I know, it’s just….,” and she stopped short when she swore one of his eyebrows raised. It was a very accusatory look. “Do you have any idea what it’s like? No! So, don’t judge me,” she instructed, shoving her hands into her pockets, but his look was very judgmental. “I’m going shopping,” she said defensively in a whisper.

Bear just moaned and turned his back on her.

“I can’t! …. You did not just! …” she stammered, but he had.

Root was back in the entryway, coat in hand and ready to go. “Everything okay in here?” she asked, sensing the tension.

“Yes!” Sameen said, unconvincingly.

“We’ll be back later, Bear,” Root said as she went to the elevator and waited for Sameen.

* * *

The couple went downstairs in silence. Sameen wanted to explain what she meant, but each time she formed a sentence, it sounded ridiculous. She needed time to think about this and to explain herself, but there was no way she could do that under all this guilt. She was so busy thinking about this, that she was surprised to find they had driven to work and not directly out shopping, as Root had indicated.

“I thought we were going shopping?” she asked when they arrived at BEAR.

“I just remembered I have some work that needs to be done,” Root explained, smiling.

Here was the thing about Root’s smiles that Sameen had learned in the short time they were together. Root’s smiles involved her entire face. Her lips moved like other people, but her eyes lit up and her whole face joined in. She had the most wonderful way of smiling that Sameen had ever seen. But right now, it was a cursory smile. The kind you give someone to be polite, when you don’t want to highlight the fact that they screwed up because you’re incredibly kind.

 _That_ kind of smile.

“I’ll see you later,” Root said in a friendly tone that made the guilt push down even further on Shaw.

She needed help, guidance – on how to handle these particulars of relationships that she had no experience in. She could have asked anyone, but she trusted only a couple of people. And as luck would have it, they were both at her cubicle when she arrived.

“Okay, listen you two,” she practically whispered to them. “I need your advice. Not your stupid opinions about how I got into this mess. Just rock solid advice that is foolproof. You know, in spite of the fact that you two are sometimes the biggest fools I know.”

“Well, I don’t see how we can refuse such a gracious request,” Reese said to his friend, Lionel.

“I know, I personally, have been waiting for a courteous invitation like this for ages,” Lionel said back to John.

In spite of the gruff manner in which their services were requested, the two men pulled up chairs close to Sameen’s desk and sat down.

“What did you do now, Shaw?” John asked because he knew this was her way of asking for help.


	93. In a Pickle

Root’s wishes to not impinge on Sameen’s lifestyle were more than just her kind heart at work. Root spent a great deal of youth in foster care, most of it awful. Often, the people who took her in, did not recognize her genius, and thought it was rebellion or worse – mental illness. One family sought to subdue her with medications; another with severe punishment. Both families woke up to financial ruin and stolen identities.

Never piss off a tech genius.

Root emerged from that experience with a deepened sense of what was right and wrong. She knew she needed to make sure she was never financially dependent on anyone again. So, after Harold took her in and allowed her access to the latest computer equipment, she invented the program that allowed computers to have satellite tracking. It turned out, NASA decided to pay Root a great deal of money not to make that program available. Some years, Root made more money from programs people did not want her to put out than she did on operational ones.

Root’s financial situation improved within a short amount of time. Harold’s company was the perfect soil for this genius to flourish in – as he had predicted. Of course, he didn’t foresee that the newfound freedom would only feed her impulsive nature and create the need for bodyguards. It was a small price to pay to bring Root’s brilliance to the world.

Enter Shaw.

Root had never met anyone like her in her life. Her attraction was instant and hard. But she sensed immediately that Sameen had a different approach to life. Root understood Sameen had been toughened by her life experiences and they left her closed and shut down. In her heart she believed, with the right nurturing, Shaw would come to trust her and those feelings would come to the surface. Root understood from the beginning that this could be a very slow process.

Still, she was exceedingly encouraged by how far Sameen had come in the short time they had been together. Huge steps, Root felt. This is why she didn’t want to push Sameen about anything. Certainly, nothing as trivial as double dating. Even if she wanted to show the world how incredibly fortunate she was to have Sameen as her girlfriend. Yes, Root wanted everyone to know that.

So, while Sameen was learning to be more open, Root was learning not to be so spontaneous. But with each of them, it was day to day.

* * *

Root received a call from her favorite clothing boutique that a dress she wanted had just arrived. She promised to be right down. When she stopped on Sameen’s floor to tell her she was going downtown, she saw she was in the conference room with John and Fusco. Shaw looked quite animated, and while Root had no idea what it was about, she decided not to bother her bodyguard. After all, she was simply going downtown to pick up a dress. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing one would need a bodyguard for.

Unless of course, the shop was located directly behind a bank that was about to be robbed.

Root’s driver dropped her off, but due to construction, he had to go down the block for parking. Root said she call him and didn’t expect to be too long. He had been on enough shopping excursions with the CEO to know it could be a couple of minutes, or hours.

The thieves had their robbery planned to the minute, so as soon as Root walked in, so did one of the perpetrators. She had two minutes to size up who was in the store and deal with them.

While Root was trying on the red dress, Sameen was trying on her friends’ response. While Root loved the fit of the new apparel, Shaw was not feeling comfortable at all.

* * *

“Look, Shaw, all I’m saying here is that neither Lionel nor I are exactly experts on relationships,” John said honestly.

“Speak for yourself,” Lionel retorted.

“But you’ve been in long term relationships,” Sameen pointed out.

“She makes a good point,” Lionel said to John.

“Still, I think you know what to do already,” John said, because he’d spent enough time with Sameen to know she was really trying with Root.

“So… I’ve been reduced …..to double dating?” Shaw said, throwing her body into a chair.

“Hey, Sarah Bernhardt,” Lionel said, referring to the old-time actress often cited when someone is being overly dramatic. “Lots of people would love to be in a relationship like you got.”

“I matched you up, Lionel,” Sameen reminded him. Then it dawned on her. “Hey, Reese, I matched you up, too. You guys owe me.”

“We owe you to do the right thing and the right thing, Shaw, is for you to do what you think is right,” John said in so pleasant a tone that Shaw wanted to hit him. But she didn’t.

She huffed her frustration and walked outside to her desk.

Minutes after Root had already left.

Reese was right. Sameen hated to admit it, but she did know what to do. She just had to think about Root and the answer came to her in the form of one simple word.

Anything.

When she saw Root’s secretary outside, she stopped to ask if Root was upstairs. Jill told her that Root had already left, but she expected her back shortly. Sameen immediately texted Root.

“ _I said I would go shopping with you_ ,” Sameen’s text read. Root smiled when she read it.

“ _I know, but you looked busy and I’m just shopping here and will be heading back_ ,” Root texted when the saleswoman went to find a black dress in Root’s size.

“ _I’ll come there,_ ” Shaw typed and asked where Root was, but she had a good reason for not answering. Someone was pointing a gun at her and telling her to hand over her phone.

* * *

“I’d love to stay for the lunch you want to buy me,” Lionel said to his friend, “…but I actually have a day job. And right now, we’re spread thin with the string of robberies.”

“Sure,” Sameen said not really listening. “Aren’t you homicide?” she finally asked.

“Do you even read the paper? These thieves are leaving bodies behind them,” Lionel spoke truthfully.

Shaw walked Lionel to the elevator with the intention of thanking him, when he got a call about a robbery in progress with an officer down. “Gimme that address,” he requested and motioned for a piece of paper.

At that very moment, Shaw asked Jill if she knew the address of the shop Root was out. “Let me look that up,” Jill said and looked on her phone.

Both Shaw and Fusco repeated the address to make sure they got it right. “ _Maxwell’s at 105 Sullivan Street, between Spring and Prince Streets_.”

“What?” Fusco said, looking at Shaw.

“That’s where Root is. She went shopping without me,” Shaw said. “Why do you have that address?”

“That’s where we just had an officer shot,” Fusco said.

Shaw grabbed her phone and tried calling Root, but it went right to voice mail. She told Jill to call the driver; maybe they were gone, but he confirmed he was down the block and now it was cornered off by cops.

Sameen turned to Lionel and pushed him onto the elevator. “She’s in that store!”

* * *

The woman, who was the lookout for the thieves, had locked the door and made it seem as if the store was closed. This was to secure their getaway exit while the other perps were robbing the bank. But a cop on the beat, who knew the store never closed at that hour, knocked on the shop’s door and peered in. When he saw people in there, he tried to get in. That’s when the woman; the least experienced member of the team, shot at him. He managed to radio for help, before succumbing to the wound. She may have been inexperienced, but she was a deadly shot.

Now she stood there, mask and gloves on to protect her identity, barking orders. The patrons in the store were frightened and huddled in the corner of the large room. She then pointed to the tallest woman there, and instructed her to zip tie everyone else.

“Now you,” she said to Root in a threatening tone. She told the other women to shut up and threatened the one who was crying to stop.

Root did as she was told, the whole time assessing what her options were. She tried to talk the woman into letting the other hostages go, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Root heard the woman radio the others on a walkie-talkie that the exit was secure. Whoever answered her, Root heard, told her things were going smoothly and she should expect them in the allotted time.

Root knew she could get out of the zip tie easily enough, but wasn’t quite sure what she would use to subdue the woman. She could tell her captor was nervous as she paced back and forth, waiting for her fellow thieves. If Root could distract her, maybe she could disarm her.

* * *

In the time it took Shaw and Fusco to get downtown, he told her he would get her behind the police barricades, but that it was not his call after that. She had to listen to whoever was in charge. Shaw agreed because she didn’t know what the situation was yet. Once she heard there were hostages inside and Root’s driver confirmed she had not returned, all bets were off.

“Oh, geeze,” Lionel said when he got off the phone. “All hell’s gonna break out. They robbed the bank, but now they’re surrounded,” he said, putting on a bulletproof vest.

The team of thieves had completed their job in the predetermined amount of time. They had made their way back through the store and were supposed to leave via that exit. But shooting the cop got them unwanted attention, and now the crew was caught between the cops at the bank, and the cops outside the store.

“Is Root still in there?” Sameen asked, pulling on Lionel to make sure he knew to tell her the truth. They had surveyed the video cameras from other locations and determined who was in the store.

“Yes,” he said and assured Sameen that they were doing everything they could to have everyone released without harm. “You won’t help going in there with one Glock,” he reminded her.

Lionel was absolutely right. They were certain there were six heavily armed perpetrators inside the store with six hostages. Sameen could never take them alone. Which is why she went over to a rookie and asked him for two things; a mirror and duct tape.

“What are these for?” he asked after procuring them for what he believed to be a member of the NYPD SWAT team. He would think that since Sameen produced a fake ID badge.

“I got to get a message to someone,” Shaw said as she inspected the mirror.

“And this?” he asked, handing her the tape.

“That,” she winked at him, “…is in case I get shot.”

Sameen took the items and looked around for the best location. She moved past the crowd of police undetected, to a spot where the sun would hit her mirror and reflect into the large glass window of the store.

“I really hope the Camp Fire Girls taught you Morse code,” Sameen said, slouching down and positioning the mirror to flash her message.

Root caught it immediately. Everyone else was busy coming up with their new plan now that they were trapped. Tensions were mounting as the gang realized their chances of escaping were slim. “Use the hostages as shields,” one of the men suggested and each one grabbed a patron.

“Why are you smiling at me?” the man that grabbed Root asked.

“Oh, I’m not smiling at you,” she said truthfully.

Shaw was confident she had gotten her message to Root. Now, all she had to do was secure the weapons. She was about to act on that - when she felt a strong hand pull her back down to the ground.

“Thought you might need these,” Reese said, handing her two more guns. “Now, what’s the plan?”


	94. Biting the Bullet

“What’s the plan,” Shaw repeated as if the words were going to prompt the answer. “Well, for one, I’m going to kill her for being so stubborn and going here alone. You know, I didn’t make a big deal about shopping,” she said defensively to a very confused Reese. “I …may…have said – you know – let me know how you make out. Who takes that so literally?” she asked seriously.

Reese stared with those baby blues and tried to piece this together. He figured it had to do with the double dating debacle that she was talking about.

Other than that, he had nothing. What he did have was two bullet-proof vests and he handed Shaw one of them. “You okay?” he asked.

“Sure, my girlfriend is upset because I didn’t want to go double dating and now she’s got a cornered bank robber probably pointing a gun at her,” Shaw rambled and John started to worry about where her instinct was.

Then he saw the transformation, once Shaw shook herself to focus.

“Radio says six hostages, six gunmen. The one who shot the cop is skittish. The others seem more experienced. They’re talking to the NYPD hostage negotiator right now,” Shaw said, having stolen a police radio, too. “Unfortunately, they hadn’t planned on getting caught, so they don’t really know what they want.”

Then a shot rang out and Shaw froze. They listened to the police walkie-talkie. “T _hey’re getting nervous in there. They want us to back up. We have to back up.”_

“That’s our cue,” Shaw said to Reese. “We’re going in.” She outlined her plan to Reese. It sounded both vague and dangerous, but he was going with her no matter what the plan was.

Shaw knew that these guys were stupid enough to get caught because of their weakest link – the woman who shot the cop and brought down a blue holy hell on their plans. They needed to know what was going on inside, so Reese pulled out a borrowed rifle with a scope and looked through the store window. “Shaw, looks like each of them is holding a hostage in front of them. Five men, one woman from the frame size. All wearing masks.”

“What kind of masks?” Shaw asked, getting her vest on and packing her guns.

“Clown masks,” Reese reported as he looked at each of them.

“Oh, man! I hate those,” Shaw admitted. “Let’s go.”

“Oh hey, Shaw?” Reese called out before getting into position. “Harold would only want us to shoot kneecaps. It’s kind of ….our thing.”

Shaw stared momentarily and took that in. “You ….have a thing? What is this … like a company code or something?”

“It’s in the manual,” John said, sheepishly, not wanting to anger the woman, but wanting her not to go all Rambo inside.

“Kneecaps,” Shaw said, rolling her eyes in disgust, but agreeing. “Unless they’re hurting Root, Reese. They it’s - bets off.”

John made his way into the building across the street. The roof was lined with NYPD snipers, but John new the best view was directly across. He apologized to the tenants of the loft apartment he entered and explained that he was with the NYPD and needed their window.

* * *

“What’s the plan, Commander?” Lionel asked the woman in charge of the scene.

“We move back and keep an eye on them. They’re asking for a van which is being brought in now,” she explained.

Fusco looked around to share that update with his friend, who he knew must be worried sick. He scanned the sea of blue to find her, but couldn’t seem to.

* * *

Root was inside assessing what the plan was going to be. Everyone in there knew now the place was surrounded and their chances of getting out depended on the hostages. The shot just fired was to get the screaming woman who was filled with fear, to shut up.

“I can help you,” she said to the man who was obviously in charge of the group. His mask was especially scary.

“You can help me by shutting up,” he said back, trying to keep his crew focused. It was hard to hold a gun, a hostage, and a bag full of money and he was trying to decide their getaway.

“How much did you get? A few thousand?” Root asked in such a calm voice that he felt compelled to remind her she was one of the hostages, not one of the robbers. “I can get you a lot more,” she added, frustrating the man so much that he took a moment out to grab Root by the lapels of her jacket and pull her in close to his face.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP LADY!” The woman who was screaming nearly passed out now.

“You let these people go,” Root said as if she were the negotiator. “That way, the cops will ease up on you.” The man just stared through the cut out eyes of his mask and at the woman who seemed to have appointed herself their leader.

“What the hell are you…?” he barked.

“She’s gonna kill me for doing this,” Root said out loud and grimaced at how true those words were, “…but I am Samantha Groves. Let the others go, keep me, and you have a lot less to handle. Screaming lady over there is going to pass out any minute and then she’ll be no use to you. Let them go, keep me and my uncle will pay whatever price you set. Certainly more than what you just scored in a bank that only holds a few thousand dollars at that branch.”

The man went to whip his hand across Root’s face until he heard how accurate she was. “How …did you know that?” he asked, thinking he could smack her after she answered.

“I …write programs. I know a lot of things,” she said as if she were trying to sell him her services.

“Tell her to shut up,” the skittish lookout woman said.

“Hey, if it weren’t for your mistake, we wouldn’t be stuck here!” he yelled and Root could tell the group was starting to implode.  
Root looked at the six bags that contained the stolen money. “Don’t tell me you all get the same share?” she asked him with astonishment in her voice. “Tsk, tsk.”

“What the hell does that matter…?” he barked, but he was hooked.

“I run a big company. I don’t pay people who screw up the same as those who don’t. Just saying,” Root said, making sure the others heard her. She was driving the stick in the wedge and hitting in.

“She’s right!” one of the other gunmen said. “It’s her fault,” the masked man said and pointed his gun at his fellow robber.

Finally, the man in charge had enough and shouted loudly to shut up. His nerves were getting rattled and he could see what a mess this was turning into. So, he started to make changes to his plan. “Tell the guy on the phone, we’re sending out the hostages. Everyone except this one.”

Root smiled like she had just won first place in a contest. She clasped her hands together and nodded her head, as if patting him on the back.

* * *

“They’re sending the hostages out!” shouted the negotiator and everyone took their position.

“Who the hell does that?” Lionel asked out loud. “Anyone see a short angry woman?” he asked some of the cops near him.

“You mean that gorgeous one from SWAT?” the rookie asked and Lionel reached out and grabbed him.

“Whaddaya mean …SWAT?” he barked in a low voice.

“She asked me for a mirror and duct tape,” the young cop stuttered, wondering what the big deal was.

“Did you give her any weapons?” Lionel asked, but he was busy look up at the roof to see if Shaw had a grenade launcher aimed at the store.

“No! Just a mirror and tape. I swear,” the cop answered nervously.

Lionel searched to see where Shaw could be and what the hell those two things would do for her. He was just grateful she hadn’t finagled any large weapons away from the inexperienced cop.

“So, you didn’t give her any guns, right?” Lionel asked as he continued to search the crowd.

“No, I told you,” the rookie said defensively. “I did give that other detective some, though.”

“The … _other_ …detective?” Lionel said suspiciously.

“They have badges. I checked them you know,” the policeman explained.

“Tall, dark and Captain America looking?” he asked and the cop nodded, although he thought that was a funny way to describe another cop. “Oh great, the Mayhem Twins are on the loose.”

* * *

John smiled politely as he took over the family’s living room. They would later tell their friends – and the news reporters – that they met the nicest SWAT team member who impressed them with how polite and calm he was. Tapping his earpiece, he alerted Shaw he was in position. He was still a little unsure how she was going to get inside, but he had no doubt she would.

* * *

The police moved closer to the store, as one by one, the hostages came out and were pulled to safety.

“We’re keeping this one,” the thief told the negotiator. “Tell her uncle we want two million dollars ransom and a van.”

He expected that Root might look worried now that they took her up on her offer to be the lone hostage, but she sat there smiling and he swore – almost dreamy eyed.

“Don’t mistake me for one of them,” he warned her – pointing to his crew. “I will hurt you.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Root assured him. She wasn’t a fool. “But my girlfriend is coming for me and she’s pissed.”

He just stared at how ridiculous a statement that was, but Root wasn’t even close to being done.

“Well, she’s probably a little annoyed at me, too,” she continued much to his utter surprise. “We had a thing this morning. Oh, not a fight,” Root assured him like he was a truly interested party. “She doesn’t want to double date and from the looks of it, she was seeking out her best friends’ input. Not sure what the dynamic duo told her, but she didn’t look happy.” Only then did Root realize her captor was breathing heavier. “Oh, sorry,” she said. “I just know she’s not going to like this at all.”

“What the fuck do I care about your crazy girlfriend?” he just had to ask.

“Hey!” Root said – yes in a threatening tone. “She’s not crazy. She puts up with crazy. But she’s not going to put up with ….you know…all of you and this.”

The leader couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh which made the rest of his group join in. His lone hostage’s coolness was getting on his nerves. “Keep an eye on her,” he shouted to one of his cohorts while he talked to the negotiator. “We will kill her,” he assured his police mediator.

Of course, Shaw heard everything that was being said over the radio she had. “Now,” she whispered to enact her plan.

Then Reese took his one shot to the window, which put a hole right in the glass. In the confusion, the robbers’ attention was pulled to the front of the store.

By the time the leader turned back to check, three of them were lying on the floor, unarmed and grabbing their knees.


	95. Easy as Apple Pie

There were times when Sameen simply walked down the hallway into Root’s office at BEAR that Root found it a complete turn on. The way the shorter woman held herself; her gait that exuded confidence, and her natural beauty that shone – all of it managed to make Root hold her breath. Imagine what Root felt when Sameen was standing there, just having shot three of the bank robbers in the knees; all in an attempt to save her. The woman’s magnetism was pulling Root towards her. Electricity shot through Root’s entire body as she watched. “Isn’t she magnificent?” she asked the skittish woman who was holding a gun to her side now.

The leader wasn’t entirely sure that the cops hadn’t shot in the store until he saw the short woman, brazenly standing there, holding her gun sideways and slowly putting it down. “No need for anyone else to get hurt,” Sameen said. “I just wanted to get your attention.”

John watched through the powerful telescope to make sure no one else made a move. The hole he made in the glass window was only a sample of how accurate his shots could be.

“Just wanted to even things up a bit,” she said to the remaining three.

The leader stared at her and held his gun on her. “You the police?” he asked uncertain. He had the negotiator in his ear telling him they had not fired any shots.

"Hey, could you take the mask off. It’s freaking me out,” Sameen said, standing there and sizing up the situation.

Root all but squealed. “Told you she was coming.”

“You’re…the _girlfriend_?” he asked, feeling less threatened. His entire operation had been pulled off without a hitch until today.

Sameen had to thin out the opposition, and then walk directly inside so she could get a closer look at who she was going to face. Skittish lookout’s lips were quivering; never a good sign when someone is holding a gun on your girlfriend.  “Yeah,” Sameen said, and smiled at Root.

“Well, you must be nuts to come in here,” the leader barked. “You shot three of my men!”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” she said as if she really meant it. The whole time, her hands were up in the air and she was moving slowly towards Root.

“ _Now_ what do we do, boss?” the third member asked.

The three injured men were moaning as Sameen passed them and kicked their guns to the leader. “They might be angry.”

“You _think_!” the leader yelled at Sameen. “I have a mind to shoot you just for fun now.”

“Yeah, but things ain’t looking good for you out there,” Sameen said. “And besides, I just got here.”

“I want medics!” the leader shouted into the phone.

“She’s a doctor,” Root offered and couldn’t wait for Sameen to make it across the few feet that separated them.

“She’s done enough, thank you,” the leader said and within minutes, EMTs slowly inched up the steps to the store. “Fix them,” he shouted from behind a wall. They bandaged the wounded and evaluated the situation. They slowly made their way out of the store when they were done.

“ _Some short woman shot all three of them,” they relayed to the Commander. Lionel slowly backed away and wondered how the hell Shaw got in there._

Now, the leader had three injured gang members, one hostage worth money, and a hostage worth nothing but trouble. He wanted his ransom and his van. He would take the rich one with them and shoot the girlfriend. When he relayed this plan to his two partners, Root started to get worried. Sameen had given up her gun and was now inches away.

“I knew you’d come for me,” Root said, smiling with her whole face, trying to hide her concern.

“Yeah, well –it’s what I do,” Shaw said.

“Could you two stop talking while I think?” the group leader asked.

“I’m sorry I got you into this,” Root said, not listening to his request.

“I said I would go shopping,” Shaw reminded Root.

“She knew that. She told us,” the other man said, getting distracted.

“Just keep an eye on them,” their boss yelled to keep them from getting unfocused by all the talk.

“Root?” Sameen said, seeing her girlfriend being held at gunpoint. Feelings were pushing up at Sameen which had never happened to her before in a hostage situation, or a gun fight, or ever.

“Yes?” Root said, almost anticipating that Sameen was about to share her feelings. She could just tell by the way the woman was acting that she was not fighting what she was feeling.

Shaw stood there, motionless, feeling the sensation of a volcano rising inside her as feelings took flight. “I …love you,” Sameen said, as if her brain finally decided to release her from the chains of repression. Of course, since it was Shaw’s brain; it picked a tense hostage situation with loaded guns.

Root heard it – the three words she longed to hear Sameen say to her. It filled her with happiness and complete adoration for this woman who risked so much to share that with her. Oh yes, and risked her life to save her.  “Oh, Sameen,” Root said, her eyes filling up with tears of heartfelt joy. She tried to reach out to Sameen, but the woman shoved the gun in her side.

“Can you freaking believe this?” the leader shouted. “I’m surrounded by police and I’m stuck in an episode of The Bachelorette.”

“I want to kiss her,” Sameen said and the leader asked – Now? “Well, if you’re going to shoot me, I should at least get to kiss my girlfriend,” Shaw pointed out.

“Of all the hostages to be stuck with,” he bemoaned and nodded his mask covered face to allow Shaw this one request. “One kiss.” He got back on the phone with the negotiator and demanded his van and money.

_“We’re working on it,” the negotiator promised him._

“You gotta get me out of here,” he pleaded with the NYPD envoy, who was confused by the tone of his voice.

Shaw could feel the criminals getting tenser. They may have been good at robbing banks, considering the string of them they had pulled off. But they had never anticipated a standoff and she could tell they were antsy. That meant anything could happen. Sameen knew any move they made had to be done quickly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t _actually_ save you,” Shaw said, holding Root’s face in her hands. “I know we always said … we’d have each other’s backs.” Root looked into dark brown eyes that almost twinkled when she said that. Then, she pulled Root into a kiss that almost erased the message from Root’s brain. “Root!” Sameen said through smashed lips to get her to focus on the message.

_They-had-each-other’s-backs._

Root reached behind Sameen’s and felt two guns, taped to her back with what else- duct tape. Root tugged at them and as soon as she did, Sameen pulled back to give Root clear aim.

“Kneecaps,” Shaw heard herself whisper, as if the BEAR indoctrination was complete.

Both hands of the taller woman were now armed and she took aim as if she had been militarily trained. The leader raised his gun, but was too slow. The other man, upon seeing the hostage armed, dropped his gun and surrendered. The nervous lookout, who had been holding onto Root, also took aim from behind her, but Shaw hauled off and punched her in the mask, sending her backwards with a thud. Within seconds, it was all over.

Reese signaled to Lionel who told the Commander it was okay to go inside. Droves of police swarmed inside now – removing the weapons and the bank robbers.

* * *

“You were wonderful,” Root swooned to Shaw, adrenaline pumping through her veins from the excitement. Oh, and the shoot out, too.

“So, you sent all the other hostages out?” Shaw noted to Root.

“Yes,” Root said, unsure if Shaw would agree with her tactic.

Sameen shook her head. “That is _so_ you,” she said, knowing Root would think of something like that.

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” Lionel said in a very loud voice as he approached the two women. “Are you two okay?” he asked, his voice hurting Sameen’s ears.

“What the hell, Lionel,” she asked.

He needed to get close enough to them. “Do you have any idea how insane it was for you to walk into this situation, Shaw?” he chastised her. “We’re not done!”

“I had John,” she said, but saw the twinge of hurt in Lionel’s eyes. “Hey, I borrowed guns from you guys. And I didn’t want to get you implicated in any of this.”

“Yeah,” Fusco said, knowing she was right, but secretly wishing he could be her sidekick. “Well, next time you go all badass on saving your girlfriend here, I’m …..oh, forget it.”

Sameen respected her friend too much to laugh, but her eyes crinkled as she and Root just looked at one another.

* * *

“Thank you for saving me,” Root said slowly to Sameen as cops worked all around them.

“Just doing my girlfriend …thing,” Sameen said, her dry wit too quick for her own good. It wasn’t what she meant at all. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Is that all?” Root asked, feeling as if Sameen was on the precipice of saying something else.

Root was right; Sameen wasn’t just glad she was okay. She had been – for the first time in a long time – scared something would happen. Now that feeling erupted inside Sameen, who seemed calm throughout the entire ordeal. “You scared the hell out of me,” she admitted to Root.

“I know,” Root said, because underneath it all - she worried one or both of them would get hurt.

* * *

Outside, the police were packing up their gear when John walked over to the rookie and returned the gun. “Did you use it?” he asked the tall man.

“A little,” John said, disappearing when the man put it back in the van.

* * *

“So, Shaw – you’re the _bodyguard_ who figured she could just get through the back door when the NYPD had the place surrounded?” the Commander was asking when the criminals were all brought into custody. Sameen had worked with her department and she was quite aware of the woman’s unusual tactics.

Lionel held his breath because this woman was not going to take any sarcasm from his friend. He started to calculate in his head how long Sameen’s sentence would be for entering a police locked down area, taking matters into her own hands, using NYPD weapons without permission – as starters.

“Well, ma’am,” Sameen said in so respectful a tone that Lionel turned to see who was really talking. “I’ve worked with some of the finest people in your department, like Detective Fusco here, ma’am. And that means, I’ve learned from the best,” Sameen said, smiling sincerely.

“Yeah, okay,” the woman in charge said. “Good job, Detective Fusco,” she added, turning and walking away, reminding Sameen she needed to come to the station and give her report.

“I’ve never seen anyone charm that woman. No one,” Lionel said in amazement.

“Some of us got it, and some of you don’t,” Shaw teased her friend.

“Good job, Shaw, Root,” John said, coming into the store now. He fist bumped Sameen; the ultimate Reese compliment.

“Let’s go home,” Root said and took Sameen by the arm. “Oh, wait,” she said, and grabbed the dress that she had purchased hours before.


	96. Better Than Steak

The three words that Shaw uttered did not surprise Root. She wasn’t even taken aback at their timing. Something about that declaration in the middle of a hostage situation with hidden firearms and duct tape was very much Shaw. But that didn’t mean Root took it all in stride. No, it meant something very much to her that Shaw expressed her feelings for Root alone. For one thing, she couldn’t let go of Sameen and she couldn’t stop emitting a guttural giggle; the kind you let out when you’re a _twenty_ on the scale of one to ten satisfied.

Sameen was glad she shared it, but now she wanted it checked off the _good girlfriend_ list so they could move on. Root wanted to wallow in the syrupy feelings she was having; Shaw wanted to eat.  
Sameen figured it was the excitement of the drama that made Root hold onto her so tightly as they moved outside. Root had all but forgotten the gun at her side, at her head, and anything other than Shaw speaking her heartfelt feelings. She was holding on out of sheer love.

“So, are we good?” Sameen asked Fusco as John waited around to see if there would be any ramification for impersonating SWAT members. He and Sameen were familiar enough faces to the police that their presence didn’t raise any flags.

“I don’t know how you two do it,” Fusco whispered and looking around to make sure no one could hear. “But you managed to pull one over on everyone.”

“Again,” John said in his usual low tone. Fusco’s head twisted quickly to look at him, but John just smiled.

Fusco noticed the odd expression on his friend’s face. “Well, aren’t you the quiet hero of the day,” he said, wondering why Shaw wasn’t boasting about her daring escapade.

“Yeah,” Shaw responded, the way one does when their collar is too tight. She was usually the first one to point out how well she executed a plan, but this one was personal. There was a real threat to Root’s life and Shaw found that took the edge off her usual ice cold calm. She had also declared her affections, which was more of a surprise to her than it was Root. Shaw was not accustomed to such spontaneity.

“Let’s go home, babe,” Root said, after talking to Harold on the phone and assuring him that she was perfectly fine and Sameen was, too.

“ _Babe_?” Fusco mouthed to Shaw and it wasn’t to tease her; it was to check to see if she heard that. That term of endearment was not one he had ever heard anyone call Shaw - without not suffer an injury afterwards.

“It’s….,” Sameen said, her eyes rolling in her head because she didn’t know where to focus them. She also didn’t know what the rest of that sentence was either. “I _t’s …okay, I can deal with it?” “It’s okay because anything Root wants to call me is okay?” “It’s okay; it’s the new me, but I am still tough as nails?”_

She couldn’t pick.

“Right,” Fusco said, because he could tell Sameen was still working it out in her head.

“Can we go?” Root asked Fusco who nodded yes.

“You’ll need to come to the station tomorrow or you know, we can come to you. Whatever works best for you,” the detective told them.

The press was behind the barricade, but this was one time that Root wanted to talk to them. She marched right over to them and explained the series of unfortunate events and how Sameen Shaw came to the rescue. Of the question, how did Sameen get past the NYPD perimeter, Root took it upon herself to share that Sameen had been trained in the military. The more Root talked about her rescue, and it was only for a few minutes, the more excited she became to share that it was Sameen who had saved her.

They anxiously wanted Sameen to add something, but she was very uncomfortable to participate. She finally leaned over and said – “We worked as a team. We make a good team.”

* * *

Back home, Gen was watching the news as she ate her after school snack. “We need to get Shaw to loosen up in interviews,” she noted, jotting in down on her iPhone so she could check into resources.

“I’m just so glad they’re okay,” Grace said, feeling very jittery.

* * *

The car took Root and Shaw back to the Penthouse, where Isabelle had been watching the news. She ran to the couple when they came in and hugged them. She kept touching Root to make sure she really was okay. As soon as Root said she was – because Sameen had seen to that, the motherly chef reached out and hugged Sameen before she could run away.

“Okay, we’re good,” Shaw said, her voice muffled from being pushed into the woman’s bosom. “Root,” she called out and waved her arms, when the time exceeded her two second hugs.

Bear charged at Root and nearly leaped in her arms, which is very hard for a dog of his size and weight. He cried and whimpered because he was so glad she was okay. Then, he ran to Sameen and did the same, but she lacked Root’s stature and fell over.

“Did he see … ?” Root asked Isabelle and the woman explained that she had shut the television off, but he found the remote.

“Could you…,” Sameen called up to Root to be freed, but she was busy talking to Isabelle.

“Is everything set for dinner?” Root inquired with interest.

“Anyone?” Shaw repeated, but the animal was too hyper and kept pushing her back down. “I’m going to hurt him…,” she called out, but the days of anyone paying attention to Sameen’s idle threats were over. “I give up,” she finally said and grabbed the dog and played with him.

“All set. You just have to heat it up,” Isabelle explained. Her culinary skills were in great demand, her presence tonight – not so much. After one more round of hugs, she gathered her things and left. Shaw had just managed to stand back up when the chef grabbed her.

“I’m getting too slow,” Shaw mused - it seemed she could not get away from anyone.

The elevator dinged and Daan stepped into the waiting area. “Oh my God!” he exclaimed when he saw Root and Sameen. “I’m so glad you guys are okay. That was insane!” he yelled.

Sameen stared at him thinking that the fact that he was a Dutch tutor to a Belgian shepherd did not strike him as insane, but a bank robbery gone bad did?

Bear was very happy to see Daan – or his babysitter for the night – as Root had arranged it. “Nothing scary, and the Balto movie only once, please. Last time you let him watch it twice, he came home howling like an Alaskan Husky,” Root explained.

“Why don’t you let him watch _The Iron Maiden_ and see if he comes home with an English accent? OUCH!” Sameen quipped and then yelled when Bear passed by and stepped on her foot. “Did you see that? He did that on purpose.”

Daan took Bear safely away on the elevator and said they would see them tomorrow.

* * *

“He’s having a sleepover?” Sameen asked, laughing at her joke until Root smiled that she was right.

“Well … ,” Root said, slowing invading Sameen’s space and running her hands down her back. “I thought we could use some alone time after spending so much time with robbers and other strangers.” The whole time Root was talking, she was touching Sameen.

“Something smells really good … ,” the foodie’s one track mind suddenly realized.

“Yes,” Root said, leaning in to kiss Shaw’s neck. “Remember that sirloin steak that you said was better than sex?”

“You got the sirloin steak …from that restaurant? Oh my God, Root – wait until you taste it,” Shaw said, her mouth already watering.

“Oh, I will, but I think if you’re going to tell me something is actually better than sex, I want to be able to make a fair comparison,” Root said, gently unbuttoning the blouse Shaw put on to cover the duct tape holsters.

The gentle squeezing and rubbing brought Shaw’s attention right back to the moment and off the prospects of food. It also made her reflect on what had happened. Suddenly, she reached up and grabbed Root hard by the arms and turned, to push her against the wall. This was Shaw scared and excited, all in one vein. “You could have been seriously hurt,” Sameen said and her tone was laced with anger. Not at Root, but at the fact that it was real.

“Yes, that’s why we can’t waste a single day,” Root said, trying to calm the nerves she knew were rattled.

Root was speaking _abstracts_ to a woman who punched like _concrete_. She had a different take. “No more shopping alone,” she declared as the first condition.

“Okay,” Root said, her hands back to exploring the rock hard abs through the material of the blouse.

“And no more … I need to know your schedule … all the time,” Sameen demanded as if she didn’t get the update every day.

“Of course,” Root said, her hands now completely distracting the bodyguard.

“And I want …that ear piece … but with you, not Reese. His low voice sounds creepy in my ear,” Shaw said, grabbing at straws for ideas to implement.

“If you say so, Sameen,” Root said, willingly giving into whatever Shaw said.

“O…kay,” Shaw said in a demonstrative tone, thinking that was easy. Feeling Root’s hands traverse her body, Sameen came back to what was going on. “So, you think you’re as good as steak?” she teased.

“Honey, I’m going to make you forget … what steak is,” Root promised, not skipping a beat.

* * *

The next morning, Isabelle would find the specially prepared meal – untouched.


	97. Beef and Grief

Not only had Root managed to make Shaw forget about the steak – yes, food, but Sameen could hardly recall her name. The near-death experience seemed to have charged every nerve ending in Root, and she radiated that energy onto every part of Sameen’s body. Sameen had wrestled other marines that were easier to handle than Root on fire. She had to use all her strength to flip Root over just to contain her long enough to tame her wildness; long enough to calm her - just so she could shoot shock-waves of pleasure through her body.

Apparently, danger has a way of make climaxes more intense and by morning, both women were spent.

* * *

“Well, what do you know!” Isabelle said that morning, upon finding the untouched meal. “Too busy touching each other, I bet,” she mused and then reprimanded herself for being so bold.

* * *

The robbery turned out to be one of the best things that could have happened to Root and Shaw. The excitement peeled a few layers off of Shaw’s emotions and they poured out to Root. Root knew what this meant – and lay there the next morning, looking down at her lover and playing with the errant stands of hair on her face. Sameen was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. If fact, she was describing that very thing to Sameen who reveled in the fact that she wasn’t an open book – when Root reminded her that she excelled at puzzles. “I keep poking, “ she explained, pushing her fingertip into Sameen’s flesh, “…and prodding,” she added and proceeded to push away clothing until her lips were on bare skin, “and persevere …until I get it.” Her mouth was near the softest parts of Sameen, who caved and unraveled under Root’s careful touch.

In spite of the fact that both women were physically exhausted by the evening of love making, both emerged from the bedroom with great enthusiasm.

“Do you still want to compare?” Root teased as she bumped her hip into Sameen as they walked into the kitchen.

“Worried?” Sameen said, trying to keep up her end of the joke.

“After the way you screamed last night … _and_ earlier this morning … _and_ just now,” Root listed off, sticking up a finger each time she named a time as she looked up at the ceiling. She lowered her head, locking eyes with Sameen and finished – “…..not a chance.”

Isabelle was surprised that last night’s dinner was going to become this morning’s breakfast, but Root insisted on it. In fact, Root sat right next to Sameen almost touching elbows as the woman served the sirloin to them. Now Sameen knew what an excellent choice of meat this was and that she had not exaggerated the simile, but that was before sex with Root.

“You said yourself that I am very good at _similes_ ,” Sameen said, trying not to give in so easily to Root.

“Not this one, Sweetie,” Root smiled smugly. Her head twisted just the slightest bit to exude her confidence that this was not a contest she would lose.

Isabelle placed the meat down on their plates and went about cleaning up dishes, her ears locked on the couple. They were fast becoming her favorite form of entertainment. Her husband had resigned himself to hearing the latest episode of the couple each night, as his wife spoke with great affection.

“Sure you’re not worried?” Sameen asked, before she put the succulent piece of meat on her fork. She knew Root wasn’t in the least bit worried, but she didn’t want to give in so easily. She ignored Root’s smirk and head shake and put the meat in the mouth. She immediately closed her eyes for effect and let out an – “Mmm, mmm, mm,” to relay how delicious it was.  
 

When Sameen opened her eyes, there was Root, leaning on her hand and waiting for her to admit – the simile no longer applied. This was one contest Sameen didn’t mind losing. “You win,” she said and Root all but squealed. Only then, did she take a piece of the tasty dish.

“Oh wow,” she said of the marinated beef. “This is good. Maybe we better ….you know, check …again later. Just to be sure,” Root said, turning the joke back in her favor.

* * *

The couple gobbled up last night’s dinner and headed off to work. As promised, as soon as they arrived at BEAR, Root forwarded Sameen a copy of her schedule. After yesterday’s escapade, Root was staying in the office all day, but only because she knew it would soothe Harold’s nerves. He had not handled the whole hostage situation well. He did, however, want to commend Shaw for her daring work.

“Okay, got it,” Sameen said when she looked at her phone.

The couple got off on Sameen’s floor first. Lionel was there with John, taking down statements about yesterday’s event. He offered to do it because he was well aware that each of their statements would have to be finessed to keep them out of jail. Unauthorized NYPD assists were still frowned upon. He was through with John when Shaw and Root were approaching.

“Oh, it looks like you have a meeting this morning, too,” Root said, looking at her calendar.

“I do?” Sameen said, and looked at her calendar. “What does this mean? It says Bear @ 10 o’clock?”

“He wants to see you,” Root explained as if they were talking about another staff member.

“Who schedules these….what am I supposed to do, meet him in his office?” Shaw laughed, thinking someone did this as a joke.

“It’s next to mine and don’t be late. He hates that,” Root said in all seriousness, scrunching up her nose.

“So Finch is okay with you, but the dog wants to see you in his office?” Fusco laughed, thinking this had to be a joke.

“This is what my life has come to, thanks to you,” Sameen said, smacking Lionel’s arm.

“This is the thanks I get, for getting you this job?” Lionel protested.

“See? It is your fault,” Sameen countered.

“Well, I have to share some of the credit with Reese, here,” Fusco said, but John immediately begged off, wanting nothing to do with this.

“I merely passed the baton,” John said in his soft voice.

Oh, so now I’m a baton?” Shaw balked, getting offended at the analogy.

Root loved these two guys, but wished they didn’t upset Sameen so much. “Here, Sweetie,” Root said, distracting her bodyguard and handing her the earpiece she requested. The men watched at Root put one in her ear. “Now, we’ll be connected all day,” Root beamed. “You have my schedule and the earpiece … was there anything else on your list?”

“No,” Shaw said thinking she might have wanted to think that list of demands through more carefully.

“Shaw had a list of demands?” Reese asked, surprised.

“Yes, she did,” Root confirmed, but she sounded so sweet when she said it, that the friends were having some doubts about the degree to which these were real demands.  Root said goodbye to the trio, stealing a quick kiss from Sameen before she left.

* * *

Sameen was enjoying the taste of Root’s lip gloss when she realized the two men were staring at her.

“Earpiece, Shaw?” John asked because he often didn’t need to use complete sentences.

“Yes, you know …so ….I …we can keep …tabs,” she stammered, clearing her throat and touching it.

“Aha,” John said, wondering how that came about. Sameen had only used one yesterday under duress.

“Was it a _long_ list of demands? “ Fusco wondered with sincere curiosity. “Like, longer than the robbers’ demands? By the way, I have never seen a perp practically thank the cops who took him away. Nice job on the kneecaps.”

“It’s the BEAR-way. Didn’t you read it on our t-shirts?” Shaw said, annoyed at the men’s teasing.

“And Root gave into … _all_ these…demands?” John asked, stoking the fire without meaning to.

“Yes!” Shaw said, hoping to shorten the interrogation. “Do you have questions for me?” she demanded of the NYPD representative.

“I have a lot of questions,” Fusco admitted. “Like, what’s up with a meeting with the dog? And, can I come to that, because I don’t think I’ve ever been in a meeting….you know… with a dog.” He wasn’t really mocking, but he was bordering on it.

“You want to come? Sure, and then you can see that I’m not crazy,” Shaw said, extending the invitation.

“Yeah, okay and then you can buy me lunch,” Lionel said and meant it.

“Why would I do that?” Shaw complained.

“Because I am going to have to use my creative writing skills on whatever it is you tell me happened yesterday,” Lionel explained and John nodded his head in agreement.

“Fine!” Shaw finally said, rolling her eyes.

“You’ve been warned,” John said to Lionel and went back to work.

For the next hour or so, Sameen told Lionel exactly what happened as she saw it.

“Okay,” he said, using a pencil and a pad, which took Janine twenty minutes to find. “Instead of saying, you sneaked right past the incompetent SWAT team, why don’t we say – ‘Executed plan via rear entrance as part of bodyguard duties.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Shaw said, not caring what spin he put on it.

“And instead of – “Shot the bastards in the kneecaps because the insane company I work for dictates what body parts I can hit,” he read her statement out loud, “…let’s say that you were cautious not to inflict life threatening injuries on any of the alleged suspects.”

Shaw stared at Lionel, who was taking a great deal of pride …and time …. in his inventive writing project.

“I think that’s everything,” he finally said, with the enthusiasm of a fifth grader working on an essay.

“Let me know if we win,” Shaw said sarcastically.

“Hey, it’s a minute past ten,” Lionel fibbed on purpose. “Aren’t you ….”

“Come on, I have to go. Geeze, he hates it when you’re late,” Shaw let out before she thought about that sentence.

“Oh, Shaw,” Lionel lamented sadly, collecting his papers. “What have they done to you?”

“Nothing you won’t pay for, Fusco,” she snapped back. “Now, come on…”


	98. From the Ridiculous to the Key Lime

Now Root usually made it a point of updating Bear on her day’s happenings, but given all the excitement and the fact that he spent the night watching Balto at Daan’s, she simply didn’t have time. So, in Bear’s defense, he was acting on …well, old news.

Fusco was listing the things he wanted for lunch. “I feel for Key Lime pie,” he shared to a very disinterested Shaw. “Or lime jello. I don’t think I like the taste, but I like the color,” he blathered on.

“Could we focus here?” Shaw finally said, turning on her heels to face him.

“Okay, okay,” he said, not getting why she was so serious.

Sameen allowed Fusco to escort her to the office next to Root’s; the office she refused to refer to as Bear’s, even though it clearly said so on the door.

“Is this a little Fruit Loops or what?” Shaw asked, using the language she thought her friend, Lionel would understand. But he didn’t return her mocking laugh with any affirmation.

“Let’s see,” he said, as if he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

Shaw decided he just needed more proof – because he was a cop, after all, and spent his day collecting evidence. She was certain there was plenty of that on the other side of the door. She absentmindedly knocked and pursed her lips that she was forgetting this was a d-o-g. “Let’s go,” she said to Fusco as if they were charging into a crime scene. For Shaw, the offense her was the continual testing of her sanity.

The first thing that Fusco noticed upon entering the room was that it didn’t smell unpleasant. “You would think it would smell doggier,” he said to her.

“Maybe that’s because he doesn’t know he’s a ….,” Shaw quipped, but Bear barked loudly because – well, probably because it was already after ten o’clock.

“Now, what do we do?” Fusco asked with great interest, looking around.

“ _What_ do we do? How the hell would I know?” Shaw barked louder than Bear.

“He is a good looking dog,” Fusco admitted when his eyes fell upon their host. The canine was sitting erect at the end of the table almost statue-like. He liked the detective.  Fusco had been around the dog before, but never in such an intimate setting, he thought.

Bear waited quietly for the two of them to figure out where they wanted to sit. It had been his experience that patience – and lots of it – was an absolutely requirement if you were hoping to train someone. Finally, Fusco flopped down on the couch on one side of the table, and Shaw sat across from him on the other couch. It was a very homey office. Sameen crossed her legs, and put her arms back across the couch, thinking she was going to enjoy watching Fusco deal with the dog who didn’t know he was one.

“Can …I pet him?” Fusco asked, scooting to the edge of the couch and putting his hand out.

Shaw swore the dog shook his head - like how could he forget that this was something humans liked to do. If he had shoulders that shrugged – he would have done so – as he got up and came over to Lionel. He could tell a lot about a person from the way they touched him.

“There you go, boy,” Fusco said, petting his head, but then working until he was stroking his neck with both hands. “He’s a beauty,” he complimented Bear as the dog slowly gave into the steady massage.

“Okay, are you two done becoming BFF's?” Shaw complained and Fusco noticed that the dog gave him an all knowing look. It was so obvious, that Fusco pulled back in amazement. ‘Did that dog just….?’ he thought to himself.

Bear decided to get started and returned to his spot, this time putting his front paws on the table.

“Watch this,” Shaw urged Fusco seeing the specially made keyboard.

Lionel watched as the dog amazingly pressed a key and an image came on the screen. It was a large rendition of the emoticon with hearts for eyes.

“Holy moly!” Fusco exclaimed. “They taught him that?” He had seen dogs do tricks, but this was unbelievable.

Bear let out a sigh because he knew his new friend was only up to the first stages of being impressed with his abilities. This was tedious work, even if he thought it was important, and slowing it down didn’t help. He could tell by Shaw’s body language, that she forgot this meeting was for her benefit; not to entertain her friend.

“He loves you!” Fusco finally pieced together and clapped his hands.

“Yeah,” Sameen said, thinking Bear gave Fusco an easy one. “Is that all you got?” she asked the canine, because she wanted proof for Fusco.

“He’s got a nice set up here,” Fusco said, looking around and going in the opposite direction of what Shaw wanted. Bear barked loudly to bring them both back on track. “Oh, I guess we’re not done,” Lionel said, impressing the instructor.

Bear pressed another key and this time a big red heart appeared. Now it was Shaw who sighed because this game was getting old. “Yeah, I love you, too,” she said in a tone that relayed anything but sincerity. She was met by a growl.

“I think he knows when you’re being sarcastic, Shaw,” Lionel said, tuning into the canine’s reactions.

 _BINGO – we have a winner!_ Bear looked over at the man, impressed with how quickly he was learning.

“What are you saying there, Bear?” Lionel asked and Shaw threw herself back on the couch.

“What! Are you asking him what he’s attempting to do here?” she asked incredulously. “Do you not get which side of the insane equation you’re supposed to be on, here?”

“Did I ever tell you as a young cop, I wanted to work in the K-9 Unit?” Fusco shared, but was trying to imagine what the dog could be doing the whole time he was talking.

“I …didn’t…know…that,” Shaw said, her face clearing stating that this was neither the time nor the place for that information.

“I think they sense things about us,” Fusco mused and was met with an affirmational loud bark. “Yes, I do,” he said and ignored the glare. “You know, think about it, Shaw,” Fusco thought out, “…whether or not Bear actually set up this meeting, it appears he wanted you here and well, here you are.”

“YES!” Shaw said, getting excited that Lionel was finally catching on. “And do you see how crazy this is?”

Finally, there was a light at the end of the insane tunnel.

“Crazy that you came, you mean?” Lionel asked and peeled back the truth on the situation.

Sameen opened her mouth to explain why she was there, but each time she uttered a syllable, it was met with Lionel’s ‘oh, do tell,’ expression. “Shut up!” she instructed even though he hadn’t spoken a word.

Bear appreciated that the good detective was good at all of this, but they were off track again. See? It took a _great deal_ of patience. A couple of barks later, the two of them were back to staring at him. He pressed another key and a smiley face with hearts surrounding it appeared, clearing indicating love.

“Geez, you are so needy,” Shaw complained to him, and then looked at Fusco. “Seriously, you don’t think it’s a little nuts that he called me here - just so I could tell him how much I love him …like, THREE times?”

Lionel thought about that. He knew his friend had little patience for – well, let’s list them, shall we? Meetings, barking (unless she was doing it), confusing statements, all other living beings some days, and feelings. Then he looked at the dog who possessed the most determined expression he had ever seen on a canine. The dog wanted something from Shaw, that much he knew. What followed were a series of questions that Shaw found intolerable, but Bear found it impressive. When Fusco asked something that was on target, Bear barked as if they were playing the game of ‘hot and cold.’

“Hot is definitely two barks,” Lionel soon discovered and Shaw grabbed a pillow from the couch, leaned into it and screamed.

“Come on, Shaw, we can do this,” Lionel encouraged her and Bear liked how this guy had a ‘pack‘ mentality. That was rare in humans, he thought. Lionel got up off the couch and went over to Shaw and made her sit back up. “I think he wants something from you,” he said and the dog actually ran in a circle, he was so happy.

“He wants what every other person in this building wants,” Shaw bellowed. “…the last fragments of my sanity.”

Bear looked at her thinking she could not have been more wrong. Shaw collapsed again into the pillow as her last chance for redemption joined - _Team Bear._ Bear rushed back to his keyboard and pressed his favorite key and a picture of Root appeared. He barked a couple of times, hoping it was enough to help Lionel connect the dots.

“I’m locked in a never-ending episode of _Lassie Meets the Body Snatchers_ ,” Shaw wailed, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“Shaw, you’re not going to believe this, but I think I know what he wants,” Lionel said, with the caution of a _Wheel of Fortune_ contestant who wants to solve the puzzle.

“Why am I _not_ surprised?” Shaw spat because of how her plan backfired.

* * *

Bear wasn’t the only one exercising buckets of patience that morning. Root had been in Harold’s office, listening to him talk about his feelings over the ordeal since 9:30. Her plan was to finish up before ten so she could attend Bear’s meeting, but Harold was very upset, and she lost track of time. When she finally glanced at the clock, she realized she was late.

“Harry, you know I’m in good hands with Sameen by my side, right?” she finally summed up.

Harold looked over at his adopted niece. He had to admit, he had never seen her happier. Even when she was in a dire situation like yesterday, it was obvious she was comforted by the fact that Shaw had risked her own life to come to her.

“She’s a remarkable woman,” Harold said softly and was thinking of Shaw more as his future in-law than his employee.

“She really is,” Root beamed.

“I was thinking – given the circumstances,” Harold started to ponder slowly, “…perhaps a …a commendation is in order.” Harold was very big on highlighting employees’ efforts.

“Oh, I think I _commended_ her enough for all of us,” Root smiled and got lost in the reverie of exactly how she did that. She started to daydream, looking out the window when a guttural laugh escaped her throat.

Her attention hung there so long that it was Harold who finally said – “Okay then; well, I guess that about does it.”

“Huh?” Root asked when Harold’s voice broke her daydream. “Oh, yes, I have to go, Harold. Thanks so much for your concern.” And with that, Root rushed out of his office to check on Shaw.

It was becoming her favorite hobby.

* * *

“No, listen to me,” Fusco pleaded by pulling Shaw’s face up out of the pillow she was burying her head in, “…I think he wants …you …to tell…..Root,” he said haltingly and waited for Bear’s signal that he was on the right track. The dog was so excited at the adeptness of this guy that he was yelping with excitement.   “…….thatyouloveher!” he let out in one long breath and clapped his hands at how certain he felt about his answer.

The affirmation was immediate. Bear was howling like – well, like the Balto, the Alaskan Husky in the movie he watched repeatedly when Daan fell asleep and he figured out the replay button.

Puppy’s play, really.

“I knew it!” Fusco yelled and startled Shaw.

“Are you insane?” she asked, but she wasn’t looking at her friend. She was staring right at Bear. “First of all; _been there, done that,_ ” she rebuked him. “And second of all, and you better sit down for this, buddy,” she was saying as Root was walking down the hallway, “…this is _none_ of your business.” Sameen started to pull on her long sleeves as if they needed adjusting.

“You don’t have to be so rough on him,” Fusco chastised his friend. Then, he thought about what had just transpired. “Oh wow, Shaw,” Lionel said, happy to hear the news. “You finally said it! Well, that’s ….,” and he wanted to say great, but of course, Shaw shot him a death ray stare.

“Hey, kids,” Root said, walking in on what she could tell was a tense meeting. “How is it going?” she said, looking around for clues.

“Just great!” Shaw balked. “I brought Fusco in here to see how ridiculous ….,” Shaw said, unable to find the right word as she waved her hand to indicate – _everything_ , “…all of this is, and instead, he becomes the _Dog Whisperer_.”

Root raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips, approaching her angry Persian the way one approaches an angry dog – cautiously, very cautiously. Fusco shrugged his shoulders apologetically, but he really thought he understood what was going on. Root looked at Bear who seemed to be staring at the ceiling. Getting it wrong with Shaw was one thing; it was another thing entirely when it was Root.

“Bear?” Root said, her tone cautioning him that sooner or later they would talk about this.

Then, he remembered what worked with Root. He started to howl his defense, much the same way he heard Shaw do when she was in trouble. The howling was incessant and loud as Bear gave it all he had. _How was he supposed to know Shaw had declared her love? Had Root updated him? He was just trying to help. Oh, and let’s not forget – he loved her_. He even jerked his nose towards the lovely picture of Root on his computer screen.

Root tried several times to get a word in edgewise, but there was no interrupting the monologue. Finally, he decided to throw in a look of utter hurt which really got to Root.

“Okay, okay,” she said, sitting now next to Shaw because she decided she better get between them. “This is really all my fault,” she said and Fusco was completely intrigued by this. Shaw pulled back just a little so Lionel could get the full impact of what Root was going to say.

“I did not get a chance to talk to Bear, you know, with all the excitement. And the whole hostage thing,” she added and Lionel’s head jerked back when he realized she was talking about two separate things.

“So, you …usually … tell him…everything?” he asked and Sameen was finally starting to think – now, he would get it.

“Oh, sure,” Root said immediately. “He’s very understanding.”

Shaw looked at Fusco with the same anxious feeling when one stares at the television set, waiting for the last lottery number when they have the first five numbers they just read. Her eyes were wide with anticipation as if willing Fusco to utter how insane this whole thing was.

Instead, she heard; “He looks like he _really_ understands you, doesn’t he?”

Fusco was happy.

Bear was happy.

Root was happy.

Shaw moaned so loudly at her lost opportunity that Root just pulled her into her arms and let her put her head in her lap. She smiled adorably at Fusco and Lionel couldn’t remember a time when he saw two people who made a better couple.

“Well, I better …you know… leave. You’ll take care of her, right?” he asked because even though he didn’t understand the misery Shaw was experiencing, he didn’t like to see her in pain.

“I will, Lionel,” Root said, her hand gently stroking the defeated woman’s hair. Even Bear felt sorry for Shaw and came right over to offer his concern in the form of a wet kiss.

“Oh, look, Shaw, he wants to be friends,” Lionel said, wanting to put a positive spin on it.

“Lionel, I’m going to shoot you next time I see you,” she said from behind her hands. Shaw hid her face as Root thanked Bear, and told him to sit.

“She says the sweetest things, doesn’t she?” Lionel said as he told Shaw he was going to get his key lime pie and put in on her tab.

* * *

“You look like you’ve had a rough meeting,” Root said and Bear noticed Shaw was getting petted more than he was. He howled his complaint.  “How many times did you watch that movie?” Root asked, suspicious of his Alaskan Husky imitation. The jig was up; Bear howled his way all the way out of the office. It was the canine equivalent of someone sticking their fingers in their ears and saying ‘na-na-na-na’ so you can’t hear the other person.

This meant Root could finally focus on the object of her affections. “Are you okay?” she asked as Shaw sat up and collected her wounded pride.

“Stupid Fusco,” Shaw responded, disappointed the man had missed out on the chance to be on her side.

“You’re really so sweet to go along with all of this,” Root said sweetly, playing with the stray stands of Shaw’s hair that always framed her face.

“What?” Sameen said, surprised. “What do you mean – _go along with_?” Shaw asked, her hope renewed.

“With …Bear … and all. I know it can be a bit … _maddening_ … sometimes,” Root said, staring at Sameen’s lips because they could so easily distract her.

There was something about the way Root rolled her eyes, shook her head from side to side and pulled her lips back that Sameen found – well, utterly charming.

“Well, yeah …,” Shaw said, losing her train of thought as Root moved a little closer.

“Then on behalf of dog lovers everywhere, thank … you,” Root said in a breathy tone that Sameen could feel on her own lips.

“My..uhm … pleasure,” Shaw responded just before Root pushed her back in a kiss of appreciation.

‘ _Ah, what the hell,_ ’ Shaw’s brain decided.

There were certain benefits to going along with the insanity and she was experiencing one right now in the form of the sweetest kiss.


	99. Wine, Dine and Zip Tied - on Purpose

There was just something, Shaw thought, which made everything seem okay when she was with Root. At first, she thought it was Root’s unflappable nature, but it was more than that. Being with Root made her feel calm; made her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time. She could have guessed that it was love, but she would not allow herself to get sappy about it.

Root couldn’t believe how happy she felt. It was as if Sameen brought the light into her world and she couldn’t get enough of it. They were opposites in some respects, she and Sameen. Shaw liked order and black and white; Root was all about chaos and coloring outside the lines. The former marine liked predictability; Root liked tazing and zip ties.

Which is why, when she wanted to surprise Sameen with a getaway trip, she went about it in the most unusual manner.

* * *

They were at the annual BEAR Staff Party where Harold liked to highlight the many wonderful efforts of the employees at a fancy dinner. There were awards for the most innovative ideas, the most creative new products and many others. But the top honor went to the employee who exemplified the core values of the company in an outstanding manner.

This year – it went to Sameen.

After a ten minute speech of heartfelt platitudes by Harold, during which time Shaw shifted in her seat uncomfortably and Root beamed, he asked Sameen to come up in front of the group, to accept her award.

“Oh, geez,” she said, as Root gently nudged her to go up there to get it. Dressed in a beautiful black dress and heels, Sameen reluctantly went to the podium. Everything in her training ingrained in Shaw that whatever you accomplished was always a team effort. So, she found it embarrassing to be the only one highlighted that night.

Harold handed her the prestigious plaque with her name engraved on it and waved his hand for her to step to the microphone. She smiled uncomfortably and stepped forward while her fellow staff members applauded.

“Thank you,” Sameen said and tried to walk away, but the crowd protested and demanded a speech.

“Oh, geez,” she repeated and went back to the mic. “Okay, okay,” she said so people would sit down and stop yelling. “So, yeah…” she started and then silence filled the room as she tried to figure out what to say.

“Tell ‘em how you feel, Shaw!” Janine yelled from the bar, breaking the hush of the room. She had already had a couple of drinks which allowed her to speak up so freely.

Sameen laughed, as did the others. “Yeah, okay ….,” she began. “You know, I have this friend Fusco who is, by most standards, a real pain in the ass. I mean, the guy just sticks his nose into my business and won’t let up when he thinks I should do something. So, it was this good friend who told me to apply for a job here. I told him that I didn’t want to do this kind of work, but Lionel wouldn’t stop until I agreed to meet with Reese. Now, we all know how diplomatic John can be, right?” she asked and people applauded John. “Well, he interviewed me over breakfast and I think maybe my eating habits scared him a bit,” she shared.

John lied and waved his hand, denying it. In reality, he would never _un-see_ it.

“Yeah, so John passed me on to Harold,” she said turning to Harold, “…and I don’t think he’s done cleaning up his office from the mess I made,” she said and Finch laughed, in spite of the fact it was true. “And then … I had the most unusual interview with the CEO,” Shaw said and the crowded laughed and murmured. “Okay, okay, not what I meant, but okay – “ she went along with the teasing. “And in spite of what I thought was the most insane place that I could work for, I took the job. And you know what?” said the woman who found she could give a poignant speech, “…I discovered what my good friend, Lionel wanted me to find all along; I found a purpose. You guys have been really great to me. So, yeah, thank you for this ..,” Sameen said, her voice cracking as her tough exterior splintered a little to let her feelings through.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Even Martine, who matched Shaw’s tough as nails demeanor, grabbed a tissue from Janine. “She’s my hero,” Janine said affectionately.

“You and the rest of this room,” Martine added.

Shaw returned to her seat where Root hugged her. “Lionel really appreciated those words, I bet,” she slipped and Shaw said yeah, she was just glad he wasn’t there to hear her or he’d never let her forget that she was indebted to him.

But Lionel was there and he heard every word. He was on a sort of – _special_ mission; one frothed with more danger than he met in his usual job. The stakes were high and there was an even greater chance of him getting hurt. He had been talked into doing it – and only agreed when Reese said he would help. They were either going to pull it off – or die trying.

The dying part was very real.

* * *

After the scrumptious dinner was consumed and the after-dinner drinks – which Root insisted on for some reason –, the two women said goodnight to the others. Root knew Sameen was feeling the effects of the drinks because she was slow to fend off Janine, who upon seeing Shaw declared her undying friendship. "Make me her assistant, please, Ms. Groves,” Janine wailed as Martine gently took the woman by the waist and ushered her into a cab.

“That might be a good idea,” Root said and Janine overheard her and thanked her profusely.

“You know I’ll have to kill her, right?” Sameen said as Janine stuck her body out of the cab window and waved.

The click of their high heels on the sidewalk echoed off the empty street as the couple casually walked alone. “I guess this makes me a bona fide BEAR employee now,” Sameen said, looking at her award.

“The committee was very careful in their choosing,” Root said.

“Was Bear on it?” Shaw laughed.

“Well, you know, Ms. Shaw,” Root said, walking slowly, arm in arm, as the couple continued to walk down Fifth Avenue. “I read your file.”

“Oh, really?” Sameen said, playing along because she knew how much Root loved these games.

“Yes, and I’m kind of a big fan,” Root all but squealed, pushing into Shaw. “I think we should get away,” she segued.

“Yeah? Should I be worried you’re going to taze me in the middle of the night?” Shaw teased.

Root stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “Sameen, I only did that to make sure you’d come with me.” She didn’t sound upset, but she wasn’t moving.

“Okay, okay,” Shaw said, thinking she had touched a nerve. Then, giving one of her classic eye rolls and head bobs, Sameen gave in. “One of the things they left out of my file….,” she stirred up the game again and immediately, Root smiled. “I kinda enjoy …that…sort of thing,” she continued, playing her part.

Sameen meant the trip to Africa was fun, not the actually tazing, drugging and zip ties.

She really should have been more specific.

A bright smile came across Root’s face. In fact, Sameen noticed the streetlights reflected in the twinkle in Root’s eyes when she said – “I am so glad you said that.”

“Yeah?” Sameen said, thinking that was the conclusion of their little playful tete a tete.

* * *

The next couple of seconds were fuzzy, but Sameen knew someone was putting a dark hood over the head and four hands were grabbing her and putting her hands behind her back. Someone – someone strong – was picking her up by her legs, another had her upper body, and the two assailants were now carrying her – with great difficulty – in a horizontal position.

Sameen didn’t scream – when the struggling didn’t release her, she planned and thought. It seemed whoever was doing this, was being gentle even though they were holding her tightly. Her mind raced to figure out what happened to Root. She never heard her scream and wondered if they dragged her away or worse. The next thing she knew, she was inside a van and the two assailants were sitting her upright in a seat.

“Is it okay?” one of them whispered and she swore she knew the voice.

“We’re all set,” the other said and now Sameen was certain, these were familiar voices. Within seconds, her suspicions were confirmed when the hood was pulled off of her head.

“What the f…,” she yelled when she saw her friends sitting across from her.

“Now, listen to us,” Fusco started, because he was the one most afraid. “It’s not what you think.”

“You know that I think? I think … this is the precursor to your painful death, Fusco,” Shaw yelled and realized her hands were bound behind her and her feet were taped with duct tape.

“Now, come on, it’s not like we hurt you,” John reasoned and Shaw started at him incredulously.

 _What the hell could they be doing?_ “Okay, okay – is this a BEAR thing? You kidnap the winner of the award and take her out to an after dinner party? Fusco, if you lost one of my shoes, I will personally come to your house …,” she threatened when she felt it missing.

“Here it is,” John said, taking it out of his jacket pocket where he placed it when it fell off. “You were kicking up a storm,” he explained.

“Oh, you mean when I thought someone was kidnapping me?” Shaw snapped. “I’m going to stab you with that stiletto, Reese. Now, let me go. Funs over.”

The two men looked at each other; neither brave enough to divulge the plot.

“Where is Root?” she asked, certain _Frick and Frack_ had done the same to her. “She won’t think this is funny.” Then, Shaw assessed the job they did because, after all, she was militarily trained. “Geez, you put this zip tie on a little sloppy,” she criticized. “And you better not have put a tear in my pantyhose with that duct tape,” she said when she saw it around her ankles. “And another thing….,” she carried on, evaluating their techniques.

Fusco looked at John, the idea forming in their heads at the very same time. “Do it,” John said, giving his oath that he would protect Lionel when the time came.

Oh, the time was going to come. But not tonight.

Lionel ripped a small piece of duct tape off the roll and approached Shaw as the van drove to its destination. They had thirty minutes before they would reach it, and they didn’t want to listen to Shaw complain the whole way.

Shaw saw Fusco coming towards her, across the small distance of the van’s width. She pulled back with trepidation. “You wouldn’t dare … “ she threatened - a second before he applied the tape across her lips.

“When am I ever going to get a chance like this again, Shaw?” he asked, sitting back down next to the man he prayed would take him to the hospital if she got loose.

Shaw screamed, but of course it was muffled by the adhesive. Her eyes were wild with fury as she ranted in detail how she was going to murder them. She felt sorry for Lee, but she would explain what his father did to her. Then, she would apologize to Joss, but she would understand, too, because this was so insane. She glared at Lionel when she tried to yell that Iris would be on her side when she told her. “Shewasmytherapistbeforeshewasyourgirlfriend!”

“You know, they say this and water are the only things you need to survive in the wilderness,” Lionel said, holding up the duct tape. Surviving the wild was definitely on his mind.

Shaw went nuts; thrashing her body forward, but John caught her and placed her back on the seat. “Shaw,” he said so calmly that Sameen thought he must not think she was really going to do him harm. “Think about this, would you?” he said, trying to appeal to her soldierly brain. “Why would Fusco and I do this?” Shaw frowned at the question as the sense of it started to sink in. “You think Fusco and I wouldn’t rather be out with our dates tonight?” John submitted.

“Yeah, wait until I explain where I was to my girlfriend who analyzes everything,” Fusco huffed.

“Or mine, who might even think it’s a good idea for you to press charges,” John added.

Shaw’s eyes lit up to think the women would be on her side. “AndIwillpresscharges,” she muttered through the tape. She sat back and tried to figure out where they were from the sounds outside the van.

“Think about it, Shaw,” John said again, like this was a puzzle she had to solve. “We’re just a couple of guys doing our jobs.”

Shaw bellowed for Fusco to take the tape off, but he refused to make eye contact. “The things I do for you,” he said and it was like adding fuel to the fire.

She worried her threats were too convincing because the van started to slow down, and Reese reached for the hood again. “Ohmygawd,” she screamed, but she was like a sitting duck. Now that she knew who her captors were, she wiggled and yelled while they carried her out of the van and walked a few hundred feet.

“I really think you could have just carried her over your broad shoulder, there, Captain America,” Lionel said, wanting to distance himself from this caper.

Sameen could feel the wind on her and the sound of airplanes. They were either at an airport, or the marshlands where people go to dump bodies.

“Almost there,” Lionel assured his friend, or future killer, depending on how you looked at it.

Sameen felt herself being carried at an angle as the men ascended the steps. Now she was certain she was inside an airplane.

* * *

“Lionel! John!” Shaw heard Root’s voice. “What are you doing?” she asked, her tone very concerned.

“You..you told us …to bring her …here….,” Fusco stammered.

“Not like this!” Root said convincingly.

“You sent me a text,” he said and dropped Shaw’s feet to get his phone. John was quick enough to grab her so she didn’t fall.

“Want to take Sameen on a surprise getaway. _Please subdue her per the following_ ….,” Lionel repeated in a monotone from the list of directions Root had sent him. But as he read off the details, the text disappeared, right in front of his eyes.

Never play ‘ _you told me’_ with a tech mastermind.

“Well, never mind, I’m just glad she’s here,” Root said, and John stood Sameen up and removed the hood.

“You taped her mouth?” Root asked in horror. That was not on the list at all.

“Well,” John said sheepishly and then pointed to Lionel.

“Nice way to throw me under the bus, buddy,” the detective complained.

“Boys?” Root said as she walked over to Shaw and gently removed the tape.

“YOU had them do this?” Shaw asked, stunned.

“A little. I thought it would be fun … exciting … ,” and the more Root said it, the more she listed adjectives like thrilling, and different, and exhilarating.

“I would have just said _yes_ ,” Shaw pointed out, pushing her face up into Root’s now.

“Oh,” Root said, as if the conventional way truly never occurred to her. “But you said the last time …was fun … so I thought …I would spice it up …a little.”

“By having these two kidnap me?” Shaw asked.

“Well, they would never hurt you,” Root said, as if that was the point.

“Get me out of here,” Shaw growled.

That caught the guys’ attention. “Oh!” they both uttered. “We have to …,” Lionel said, pointing to the door. “Go…,” John finished and the two of them pushed each other out of the way as they both tried to fit through the exit door. “I’m a NYPD Detective,” Lionel yelled, fearing John could run faster if Shaw got free, “…this is a matter of life and death.”

If Shaw wasn’t so pissed at them, she would have laughed at how ridiculous they looked running on the tarmac to get away.

* * *

“Too much?” Root asked, shrugging her shoulders with the most apologetic expression on her face. She knelt down and undid the tape around Sameen’s ankles. Then she went round the back and cut the zip tie. Shaw immediately grabbed her wrists and rubbed them, even though they didn’t hurt.

“Some people just say – _hey, you want to go on vacation_?” Shaw pointed out the obvious. She was having trouble applying the same attitude she had with the dynamic duo to Root – who had this amazing ability to look insanely innocent when she did something – well, insane.

“I may have misunderstood your remarks about the last time we did this,” Root offered.

Sameen was just about to point out that this plan had to have already been in the works, because as soon as she uttered those words about their last trip, the kidnapping took place.

The hatch door closed and the pilot asked the jet’s owner if she was ready to take off. She walked with Shaw to the two seats in the cabin.

“Wait…what is that smell?” Sameen asked, taking her seat.

“Sirloin?” Root asked, because she had it specially prepared for the trip. If this didn’t go over the way she planned, she had hoped that food would soothe her girlfriend.

“Nope,” Sameen said, turning her head slightly. She did in fact smell the steak, but that’s not what she meant.

“I … don’t know …,” Root admitted, strapping in for takeoff.

“That … is the smell of you making this up to me …wherever it is we’re going to,” Shaw said, shaking her head at the lengths Root would go to.

“Oh, I will, Sameen,” Root promised, as if she didn’t already have that planned.

“Where ..are we doing?” Shaw asked out of curiosity.

“Coco Plum Island,” Root answered, having given the destination a great deal of thought.

“Belize?” Shaw asked, slightly familiar with their destination.

“Yes!” Root exclaimed, happy that Sameen guessed it. “It’s a private beach island for just the two of us.”

“Nice,” Shaw admitted, the thought of warm sand and crystal clear water washing away her agitation already.

“So, do you forgive me?” Root leaned over when the pilot said it was safe to unfasten their seat belts.

“Maybe,” Shaw answered, looking around the cabin now. “Root, how did you know what to pack?”

“What do you mean?” Root asked sincerely.

“Luggage? What did you pack?” Shaw asked since she wasn’t part of the preparation.

“Oh,” Root said, looking around. “I didn’t pack anything.”

“You expect us to be on a private island for days … without clothes?” Shaw asked, hoping to point out the obvious error of her ways.

It did in fact, have the opposite effect on Root. Her face broke out into her signature smile, her eyes all sparkly. Root couldn’t think of a single reason why luggage was a requirement.

“Well, I guess I should just be glad you didn’t see fit to taze me on this trip,” Sameen said jokingly.

“Oh, Sameen,” Root said, getting up and moving to her chair, straddling her legs and sitting in her lap in the luxurious seat. “Just because I didn’t bring clothes, doesn’t mean I didn’t bring toys.”

“Root!” Shaw warned, but Root was already smothering her in a kiss that disarmed the bodyguard completely.

Root didn’t release Sameen until she had tasted her lips and prodded the inside of her mouth softly with her tongue. “O..kay,” the bodyguard heard herself agree.

Sameen sat there enjoying the warmth of Root’s soft touches, thinking to herself – She had been through war and dangerous reconnaissance missions; certainly, she was a match for Root’s crazy adventures.

And yet, with all that preparation, Shaw still had no idea what was in store for her. Shaw may have been trained in danger; but Root ate danger for breakfast. Without a spoon.

They were, after all – a match made in crazy.

The perfect match of two women who found their life’s purpose – in each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been my greatest privilege to share my first POI story with you. I had intended it to last a few chapters - hence the meal themes. But you were all so kind and truly gracious that your encouragement lasted - well, several more chapters. i appreciate all of you for reading along, especially those who made it to the end. I can't imagine what future readers will think when they see nearly 100 chapters.  
> I have listened carefully to your feedback and incorporated many of your suggestions as best I could. I believe the story ends at a good place, but I look forward to hearing your thoughts. Perhaps there will be a sequel.  
> I am happy that this story lasted this long; sad to bid you all adieu. It truly has been my pleasure.  
> Cheers,  
> Manhattanite


	100. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Some of you pointed out this needed an epilogue or - the 100th chapter. I felt I owed you that. So, here it is.  
> You didn't think it would be a short chapter, did you? God, you are all so patient with me.

Root wasn’t kidding about not packing any clothes. When they arrived at their private residence, warm weather outfits were waiting for them. Whatever little they needed, Root saw to it that it was brought to the house. Of course, any opportunity to not wear clothing was okay by Root. Like when they went scuba diving. But you can’t do that naked.

Well, one could try – but Sameen refused and so appropriate clothing had to be ordered.

As Sameen donned her wet suit, Root watched her tug on the zipper - sitting there and smiling uncontrollably. “Now what?” Sameen asked, wondering what that giggle was all about. Root was already dressed in the suitable gear.

“I’m glad we’re using oxygen tanks because of how you take my breath away,” Root smiled at her own corniness.

“Good one,” Shaw said grimacing, just barely tolerating the syrupy sentiment. “You should write for Hallmark.” The standard eye roll was then applied.

Root knew little about scuba diving, which worked in her favor as Sameen had to guide her in the water …which meant … constant touching. Even beneath the crystal clear blue waters, Root was feeling sun stroke from the heat building inside her. An hour later, she was patiently looking forward to their next venture when they emerged from the waters.

The sun was beating down as they slowly walked up the sand to the waiting chairs. Root sat there quietly watching as Sameen peeled away her wet suit and revealed the tiniest bikini Root could possible order from the local shops. “Wow!” Root uttered as Sameen shook her hair loose, “Red really is your color,” she pointed out.

“Yeah?” Sameen replied. “Well, yours – not so much. You better put that sunscreen on that fair skin of yours.”

“Oh, you’re right!” said the woman who was orchestrating every detail of the trip with one motive in mind. “Maybe you could help?” Root asked innocently, as she unzipped her scuba gear to reveal her own bathing suit. Underneath she wore a pink bikini – nowhere nearly as revealing as Sameen’s. The difference was immediately noticed.

“Why …,” Sameen waved her finger between them … “… is mine so … yours covers …” she attempted to put her question into words.

“Because, Silly…,” Root said, knowing how to complete her thoughts, “… you fill yours out better. And they only had that one in your size.”

“Root!” came the response as Root bit her lower lip at Sameen standing there with her hands on her hips. Root just smiled and held out the sunscreen. “Fine!” Sameen said, and dutifully took the cream and put a blob of it in her hands. “Couldn’t get the spray kind?”

“They were all out,” Root lied because – where’s the fun in that?

Lying down on the chaise lounge now, Root turned onto her stomach. She wasn’t surprised when Sameen’s hands were rough when applying it to her back. Root had learned that Sameen didn’t enjoy being played with – unless it was done very carefully.

“Could you…?” she asked delicately, as she tugged on her bikini top to bare her back. Sameen huffed at the extra work she knew she was being led to, but complied because she really was concerned about her lover’s fair skin.

“You would like … fry … in minutes out here,” she admitted.

Root was slowly leading Sameen exactly where she wanted her.

“Oh, I know!” Root affirmed. “I really need that on any part of my skin that is … _exposed_. Would you mind doing … my legs?” Root asked innocently.

“Do you think maybe you should just come out of the sun?” Sameen countered, but this was not a game Sameen was good at. Every time she tried to loosen the seductive noose Root was catching her in, it never worked. Root was just too good.

“You want to go back to the bedroom?” Root asked – you know – just to clarify.

“No! I meant we could go inside …,” Sameen explained and gave up. “Never mind,” she said and applied more lotion to Root’s long legs.

Root’s timing was flawless, which was to say that she knew when to stop speaking and allow her body to do the talking instead. While Sameen’s ears were enjoying the silence, the rest of her was slowly being pulled into the enjoyment one experiences when running their hands over their lover’s body. “I better …,” Sameen started to explain as her hands went gently over the exposed part of Root’s derriere. “Because you’re ….so …you know,” Sameen attempted to explain her actions. As if they needed to be explained.

Root bit so hard on her lower lip to keep quiet, that she almost drew blood. ‘Oh, God!’ she repeated in her head over and over and over and over … until she heard – “Root, I get it! It feels good.”

Apparently, some of those calls to God were out loud.

Root looked back wondering what her next tactic should be, but she didn’t need one. Sameen was already smiling and shaking her head, which Root had learned, was actually Sameen’s first step of surrendering.

* * *

The BEAR building was filled with the couple’s absence. It was hard to say who missed them more, but today – Bear was winning the moaning and groaning contest. Janine had offered to take him the day before, and Harold thought it was a good idea. But the two were so miserable after commiserating at the end of the day, that Harold decided he needed to up his game. So, he asked Detective Fusco to help out.

Nothing cheers up a dog who doesn’t know he’s a dog like children – who sometimes don’t act like children. Lee Fusco and Genrika were in charge of Bear for the day.

“You know, if they get married, we’ll be … kind of … distantly related,” Lee proffered as they sat in Bear’s office.

“No, we won’t,” Genrika corrected him because she always dealt in facts.

“Well, we might … see each other … on holidays,” Lee countered. He was two years older than Gen, but they were both in high school.

Gen knew male pattern awkwardness when she saw it. He was expressing an interest in her – something he had done every time he saw her. She thought it was … cute.

“Maybe,” she answered, unsure of the probability.

“So, are they going to adopt you?” Lee asked of Gen’s future.

“Harold and Grace?” Gen asked to be sure.

“No, Ms. Groves and my Aunt Sameen,” Lee said, uncertain if he would be happy or jealous. Ok, mostly happy, he decided.

Gen didn’t answer that question so quickly. She wasn’t sure she liked any of the answers. “I don’t know,” she finally said, turning her attention back to Bear who was marginally better that day.

“He really misses them,” Lee noted of the dog’s depressed demeanor.

Then, Gen had a brilliant idea. She asked Harold for some supplies – and even though Lee balked at first, he decided to help Bear … and Gen … out. A few hours later, Bear was the proud owner of two dolls – one who stuck an uncanny resemblance to Root, and the other – remarkably like Shaw.

“These are amazing!” Janine said when she brought some snacks into the kids. She was especially taken with the likeness to Shaw. “Could you make more of these?”

Harold came in and admired the home made distractions the two had come up with.

“It’s really weird though,” Lee observed whenever they gave the dog the dolls. “He keeps chewing on this one’s ankle.”

“Oh, dear,” commented Harold when he saw the state of that doll. “That’s not a very good sign. I do hope that Miss Shaw isn’t experiencing anything like this on vacation.”

Harold sentiments were – rather prophetic.

* * *

Of all the things Sameen was learning to love about Root, her forgetfulness to keep her in the loop – was not one of them. After what turned from a caring lathering of skin with sunscreen to a rather seductive and slow building fire on the beach, the women returned to their private residence on the island. In fact, the only other familiar inhabitants, Sameen noted, were two local women who cooked and cleaned and were paid handsomely by Root.

A towel-wrapped Sameen emerged from the shower, walked into the spacious bedroom, and bent over to dry her hair with a towel. Root was still singing in the shower, taking her time. If Sameen had listed all the things she expected to see in their bedroom, what her eyes glanced on – would never had made the list.

“Root!” she called out, too far from the bathroom to run back into and slam the door. “Root!” she called again – but her tone annoyed the guest.

Sameen wondered where her gun was as her clothes tended to tossed all over after being pulled off her body. Hey, it was vacation, after all. Now the creature was moving slowly between Sameen and the bathroom. She was only slightly familiar with the animal, but she didn’t need to know much to know his stance was not friendly. Nor were the teeth he was baring.

“Lock the door, Root. Get out now and lock that door!” Sameen commanded and of course – Root did exactly the opposite.

“Oh!” she said, coming through the doorway and seeing the jaguar. “That’s new.”

“No, Root – that’s not _new_. That’s _dangerous_. Get back inside now!” Sameen ordered as she waved at the animal to keep his attention on her and not the Girl Scout behind him. He looked back and forth at the two women and let out a roar that startled Sameen, but didn’t faze Root.

“Oh, shush you,” she said and much to Sameen’s surprise – walked right into the room and approached him.

“Root!” Sameen said, her mind racing with options. It was a short race.

“It’s ok, Sweetie,” Root said, petting the large cat’s head the way she did with Bear. “He belongs to Raul. Don’t you, you big pussy cat,” Root continued in a voice one uses with … a kitten … or something that could not take your arm off with a couple of bites.

Shaw was motionless – as she tried to decide if she should thank the wild animal for not killing the woman she was going to kill.

“Oh, I meant to tell you ….,” Root said, too busy with orchestrating explosive trysts on the beach to remember every detail, “….we’re going to help Raul with some technology stuff while we’re here.”

“We’re …what?” Shaw said, slowing moving closer to the pile of clothes from the night before to see if her gun was underneath.

The jaguar sensed her trepidation and – growled.

“Sameen,” Root said cautiously and with a tone that told Shaw she was about to get a lecture … in the middle of danger. “Jaguars are the least likely of the big cat species to attack humans,” the lecture began. “They actually prefer deer, crocodiles, frogs even,” Root said with the enthusiasm of a fourth grade teacher.

“Aha,” Shaw said, but was moving anyway.

“Sa-meen,” Root repeated and this time, she elongated the two syllables in her name.

“WHAT!” Shaw asked, because she didn’t think there were any crocodiles around and she was fresh out of frogs.

“He belongs to Raul,” Root said patiently.

“Well then, how about if _Ra-ul_ comes and gets him?” Shaw said back with a layer of mockery and concern. Mostly mockery.

“Raul?” Root called out and the man appeared in the doorway.

He was pleasantly surprised at what he saw. He was also happy his cat was not injured. From the looks of the smaller woman, he deduced quickly she would shoot on sight. “I would not have entered, unless invited,” he explained, as Sameen reached down into the pile.

“It’s fine, Raul,” Root assured him. At the moment, Root had more faith in the jaguar not attacking, than she did in Sameen not shooting. “I asked Raul to come, Sameen,” she said in a sing song voice as if that was supposed to make everything okay. And it should have, but Sameen was in locked and loaded mode.

Finding the weapon she was looking for, she grabbed it and stood up. “Yeah?” she said to Root who was now by her side, gently pushing down on the steel like arm that had the Glock in its hand.

“She’s the _one_?” Raul asked with great trepidation.

“What? I’m the _one_? I’m the _one_ what?” Sameen said, already insulted even though she had no idea what he meant. “I’m the who can kick your ass, while I’m …..,” she threatened – just to be sure.

“It’s okay, Sweetie,” Root said, before her hot headed girlfriend could describe what she’d do to Raul’s prized possession.

Animal activists do not take kindly to threats about the very animals they’re trying to save.

“ _THIS_ is the woman you brought?” Raul asked and now there was no mistaking that he was questioning Root’s judgement.

“Do you not see the loaded gun in my hand?” Shaw shot back at him, and now Root found it necessary to put both hands on Sameen’s wrist.

Root had to admit, Shaw’s defiant nature was a force to be reckon with. Not only was she not afraid of the six foot six man who stood in their bedroom, she had no fear of his jaguar.

“I’ll have you know I was kidnapped here,” Sameen said, which of course didn’t really explain what she meant and only confused Raul.

“You had to kidnap an animal activist?” he asked wondering why Root wouldn’t just pay someone to come with her.

“A WHAT?” Sameen asked, but she was looking at Root now.

“Could we … have a minute?” Root asked Raul, looking every bit as sheepish as the partner who forgot to tell someone they had just been volunteered.

“You’re gonna need more than a minute,” Shaw said slowly.

Raul raised his eyebrows, feeling sorry for his friend, but thinking it was safer for him and his jaguar outside. The big cat thought so, too, and immediately left with him.  
Shaw’s dark eyes held Root in such a tight gaze that the taller woman thought a little distance might be in order. “Now, Sameen … Sweetie, “ she said as she moved backwards and Shaw followed.

* * *

Root wasn’t the only one in hot water. It seemed Shaw had seen to it that her friends - though well meaning, were suffering the consequences of helping Root kidnap her. She was a tactical expert, after all, and knew exactly who to employ to garner her revenge.

Reese was sitting in his office musing over the fact that he, too, noticed how calm the office was without the department’s most vocal complainer. He kind of missed her. It! He kind of missed … it. John was busy getting his thoughts back on track when Joss appeared in his doorway.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” he said truthfully. He always enjoyed seeing the woman who occupied his thoughts. He loved her smile – which he realized – she wasn’t wearing at the moment.

“Tell me you did not give into Fusco’s harebrained scheme and that instead … you …. you …..,” she stammered to think of a plausible explanation. “You owed him a large sum of money and you did this to pay him back.”

The woman stood there with her hands on her hips in front of his desk - waiting. John put together quickly that Shaw had told her about their mock abduction.

“We … I ….Fusco …,” John began because he was a terrible liar and right now he was trying to figure out which one would get him out of trouble

“Don’t lie to me,” Joss warned because she could spot them a mile away.

John smiled because he knew she was right. “We wanted to help Root.” It was the truth – but it didn’t clear up the confusion any.

“You wanted to help Root?” Joss repeated. “And so you kidnapped her bodyguard? That just doesn’t make sense.”

“Welcome to my world,” Reese smiled back. “It’s ….kinda ….their thing,” the man offered without further explanation. It was exactly what Root told them when she explained she needed their help.

“Well, I still don’t like you kidnapping Sameen like that. Even if Root did ask you. I mean, a person does not like to be absconded off the street, John,” Joss lectured, unsure of if she should be annoyed or not. Shaw sounded upset in her text that she had sent.

“You know Fusco and I would never have come up with that on our own, “ John explained, looking as innocent as he could muster. Those baby blues sure knew how to soften her.

“Damn, John,” Joss uttered, unable to resist that charm. “Well, you tell Sameen I gave you hell, okay?”

“Will do,” John said truthfully.

Joss’ whole body swayed back and forth as she tried to decide if she had accomplished what she set out to do. “You’re all a bunch of crazy people, you know that, right?” she finally said of the group.

“Card-carrying members,” John admitted in his mellow tone.

Joss may have listened to reason and accepted John’s explanation, but Fusco wasn’t going to get off so easy.

* * *

Over dinner that night, Iris dabbed her lips with the white linen napkin that Fusco only used for special occasions. He had invited her to dinner and made his special dish of angel hair primavera. Lee was out to dinner with Gen and Harold and this was the first time Lionel was entertaining at his home.

“Good, right?” he prompted her as he finished his second helping. .

“Yes, very good,” she said, but he could tell there was something on her mind.

Lionel was a very good detective whose areas of expertize included reading people’s body language. He not only read it well, he was a damn good interpreter.

“Look, I think something’s on your mind here, and I hope it’s not the garlic?” he asked first.

Iris wasn’t sure she was pleased or not that she was an open book to him. “No, the garlic was just the right amount,” she smiled.

“Okay, so I’m going out on a limb here and suggest something is eating at you and it’s not my delicious pasta,” Lionel began.  
Iris smiled at how astute he was.

“And I figure if it was us, you would just come out and tell me,” he continued and her smile confirmed he was on the right track.

“So, I’m guessing here that it might have to do with a certain friend of mine who might be a patient of yours. Who, by the way, is a royal pain in the ass,” he emphasized. Even when Shaw wasn’t around, she was giving him a hard time, the thought.

“Perhaps,” is all her professional code would allow Iris to say.

“And I’m thinking …,” he continued as he cleared up the dishes, “…that you might have heard that this person was …. kind of abducted off the street, and that I might have had something to do with that.”

“You see I’m caught here, yes?” Iris asked, her light eyes looking up at Lionel.

“Yeah, and I don’t want you to be. So, I’m gonna put all my cards on the table here. We – and by we – I mean Reese and me – were helping Root out. They’re like kids – crazy in love with an emphasis on the crazy part. Captain Crunch does not do anything by the books. So, she asked us to uhm – get Shaw to the plane where she was going to surprise her with a little vacation. Except she didn’t ask us to drive Shaw to the airport – no, that would have been too normal. She asked us to kidnap her, gently like, and bring her. Look, if you ask me, you should be talking to Maybelline about what the two of them …okay, never mind about that. Anyway, it was done in fun and no one got hurt. But mostly because Reese and I out ran her,” Lionel concluded.

He did such a good job of explaining the situation without once violating her code of ethics that Iris smiled and thanked him. She did offer her professional opinion though. “You’re all a little crazy; you know that right?”

“Yeah,” Lionel confessed.

* * *

Reese and Fusco may not have suffered as much as Shaw wanted them to, but she was gradually letting go of the grudge anyway. Besides, right now, she was a little preoccupied with the latest scheme Root seemed to be hatching.

“So, now I’m an animal activist?” she asked in a very annoyed tone. Her adrenaline was still coursing its way through her veins from the close encounter with the annoying uninvited guest. And the jaguar.

“Well, that’s the part that I wanted to explain and I was going to ….,” Root said, unconvincingly. “…over dinner,” she dug deeper. “Tonight.”

Sameen could hardly hear her from the ditch she was digging.

“Were you, now?” Sameen asked, crossing her arms, one of them still holding a weapon.

“I …was ….yes, …going to explain that while we were down here, I thought …we could help Raul on a little project he is working on,” Root said, and now she managed to put a couple of feet between them, but regretted not taking the gun out of Sameen’s hand. She wasn’t afraid she would use it, but she knew holding it made Sameen feel even more powerful.

“Well, what do you say we start dinner right here. I can begin by eating my own words that this would be a relaxing trip without surprises, ” Sameen said sardonically. “So – go ahead,” she thrust her hand out for Root to explain what was going on.

“Well, Raul is an old friend,” Root started and was about to segue into how they met years before, but Shaw gave her a dead stare and waved her finger in circles to cut to the chase. “He’s trying to save the jaguar population down here. And I thought, since we were here, why not lend a hand?”

Shaw wanted to short version, but was suspicious that the details were somewhere lost in the middle. “And …?”

“His project requires some negotiation with the people who are occupying the area where the jaguars are ..and I thought ….,” Root said, and now the smile reappeared on her face, “….we could help.”

There was so much missing from that explanation that Sameen just stood there – waiting. “Help how?”

“Well, the people who are occupying that area right now - - are - - sort of – warlords,” Root finally shared, the last word rolling off her tongue as if she had just said the jungle was filled with clowns.

“Warlords,” Sameen repeated and put the gun down, so she wouldn’t be tempted to at least shoot the ceiling.

“Three ..warlords. There are three factions fighting in there for control and Raul would like us to help negotiate a peace treaty of sorts so that – the jaguars will be safe. Not to mention the people surrounding the area … of course,” Root said as if she were describing the ideal excursion.

Sameen just looked at her. If she didn’t want Root to think she was in trouble, she would have given into the ridiculousness and laughed. “So, we’re on vacation and you just happen to volunteer us to broker a deal with warlords,” Sameen summed up.

“We’re good at this,” Root stated as to how she connected these far flung dots.

Sameen could have carried on about how insane this was – and she was going to – but right now, she was thinking how life was never going to be mundane with this woman who stood before her. “So, we’re going to go into this war zone – alone?” Sameen asked and Root relaxed because she could tell Sameen’s military brain was already planning it out.

“Who else do we need?” Root asked, full of confidence.

“Right,” Sameen replied, because it’s not like Root would think to buy an army as back-up for them.

* * *

Minutes later, Root and Sameen finally emerged from the bedroom, dressed and ready to take Raul through the plan that they had come up with. He would negotiate a time for all of them to meet and Root and Shaw would take it from there.

“They’re not just going to do this because you ask politely,” Raul pointed out.

“Who said anything about being polite?” Shaw countered because when she wore he military hat, politeness was not in the room.

Root understood this, but also didn’t want to them to get harmed. “I think we have something we can negotiate with,” she explained, and patted her laptop.

“Let me guess. Pokémon Go?” Shaw asked sarcastically because she never knew what Root would bring as gifts to a gunfight.

“Something like that,” Root smiled, but didn’t explain. She knew Sameen might understand, but she wasn’t sure Raul would have faith in two women walking into the jungle with access to cable television as part of their bargaining chip.

Raul and his jaguar left later that night. Sameen sat next to Root as they laid out their plan. Root felt the pull Sameen’s presence had on her, even when they were just inches apart. Looking up at the woman who was taking charge of their entry into the unknown now, Root knew she could face anything with Sameen at her side.

Unfortunately for Shaw, this vote of confidence meant Root was going to get them into plenty of hot water.

The one thing the two agreed on was not to share their off-track expedition with anyone back home. Harold and Grace would worry; Reese would want to fly down to be part of it; Fusco would yell at Shaw, and Janine would scream it from the rooftops.

The couple set out the next day on their mission of goodwill. Root was armed with her technology and Shaw was armed with – well, anything she could get her hands on. Three days later, after much yelling – mostly from Sameen – an agreement was brokered. Everyone was happy, especially Root, that her _Four Alarm Fire in an Oil Refinery_ girlfriend hadn’t seen fit to shoot anyone. Even in the kneecaps. The women returned to their private residence victorious, certain that nothing as perilous awaited them back in New York.

* * *

When their trip finally ended and they were returning home, Root sat next to Sameen on the private plane. “I’m thinking of firing you,” she said out of nowhere.

“Aha,” Sameen said, not paying any attention as she ate her steak.

“No, really,” Root said, proving she always had something up her sleeve. “I think we should be more – partners. We work well together.”

“Sure,” Sameen said, because she refused to play this game.

“Harry can manage the company and I can just feed him the software. This way, you and I can really do some good things for the world,” Root thought out.

“Okay,” Sameen said, her mouth too full of delicious beef to call Root’s bluff.

Root wasn’t bluffing; she was planning the next chapter of their lives, and she wanted it to be spectacular. She gazed down at the love of her life, certain they could do anything together.

But what waited for them in New York … was about to tear at the very fabric of their relationship.

* * *

“John?” Martine called to him from the doorway of his office where she had just entered without knocking. “We got a … situation … out here.” The woman who was always good with detail seemed uncharacteristically vague.

John got up from his desk and walked outside. Without saying anything else, Martine jerked her head in the direction of Janine. The woman seemed quite nervous as she stood there, waiting for him, at the other end of the hallway.

“Okay,” he said, trusting there was a reason for all of this.

“Not sure how to handle this one,” was all Martine said after receiving the urgent call from Sameen’s newly appointed assistant. Another surprise waiting for Shaw.

John walked down to Janine who simply turned towards the conference room. “She’s demanding to see Shaw,” she said.

“Who is she?” John asked in his quiet tone.

“Won’t say,” Janine replied.  

“Well, I’ll go in, but I want you to find out how she got through security downstairs,” John said, looking in at the well dressed, short woman. He decided she posed no threat.  
He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Hello, my name is ….,” he went to introduce himself.

“I know who you are, Mr. Reese,” the dark haired woman said. Her tone wasn’t curt, but it wasn’t friendly either.

* * *

Lionel was coming off the elevator to meet Iris for dinner when he saw the two women standing outside the conference room. He was about to ask what was wrong, when John opened the door quickly. He didn’t know Lionel was going to be there, but he was very grateful for his impeccable timing.

“Lionel!” John said, in an unusually exuberant tone.

“What’s up with you, Captain America?” Lionel asked and only then did he notice the sophisticated, exquisitely dressed woman sitting at the table. “Oh, sorry ma’am.”

“Janine, water,” John said and the woman flew to get a bottle for him. He took the bottle and Lionel’s arm and pulled them both back into the room.

“Lionel, I’d like to introduce Ms. Azar Monir,” John said, and seemed stiffer than usual, if that was possible.

“How do you do?” Lionel asked, smiling.

“I know who you are, too, Detective. Perhaps you will prove to be more helpful than Mr. Reese has been in my quest,” the woman said and as confused as Fusco was, he could tell this was one no- nonsense woman.

“Do I know you?” Lionel asked, priding himself on the fact that he rarely forgot a face.

“That, dear Detective Fusco, is not the point,” the woman said, her patience running thin.

“Cause you look a little familiar,” Fusco said, still in his own world.

“Lionel, Ms. Monir is looking for her _daughter_ ,” John explained, still not sure himself.

The dark eyed woman stared at Lionel as he tried to solve this puzzle. “Oh, yeah?” Lionel said in a friendly tone, and could tell John wanted him to ask more. “Who would that be?” he asked, getting the question right. He could tell by John’s expression that the punch line was about to arrive.

The woman detested density in people and the fact that these two men were making this more difficult than it needed to be, irked her. “My daughter is Sameen Shaw,” she said, standing up because the meeting was over.

“Holy crap on crackers,” Lionel said, the vulgarity not lost on the woman.

“Mr. Reese has assured me she is not here. So, I will ask that both of you please deliver her to me at my hotel this evening. I imagine …,” the woman said, taking the first pause since she arrived, “….she will need _some_ persuading. I expect it will take both of you.”

“Yeah, right,” Lionel laughed, thinking this was all a ruse of some kind. “Did Shaw?” he asked, turning to John, but the taller man shook his head. One call downstairs had gotten him the information to confirm that this woman was who she said she was. In name, anyway.

“I will expect her at the Waldorf Hotel this evening, after her plane arrives,” the woman said authoritatively. “You can manage that, yes?” she asked, looking at both men now and never once indicating they had a choice. “Good,” she said, before either could answer.

The woman put her black gloves back on her hands and smiled slightly as she left the room, leaving both men stunned and silent.

“Is she?” Lionel asked.

“That’s her name,” John confirmed. ‘Did you know … ?”

“No! Shaw never said – no. I always assumed the woman was dead,” Lionel explained, peering back outside to take a look. “Geez, she sounds like her. I mean, a little.”

“They’re due at the airport. What do we do?” John asked, worried.

“What do ‘ _we_ ’ do?” Lionel asked and John gave him a look that clearly stated Lionel was going to miss dinner.

“Yes, Lionel. You’re her friend,” John said, as if he needed to remind him.

“Well, for one thing – you better get those zip ties, that Taser, and whatever drug Captain Crunch used on her and put it in a one of those tranquilizer guns they use on bears,” Lionel outlined.

“We better do all that before we even tell her,” John said.

And he was right.

All hell was going to break loose and nothing would be the same again.

* * *

 

To be continued .....?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies to all of Belize as I used poetic license about their territory. It was done for the sake of the plot and with no disrespect.


End file.
